


bend the knee

by eternalmagic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Fire Emblem AU, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, More info in notes, Multi, multiple/shifting pov, tagged ships are written platonically but if you ship it then there you go, taking the paladins out of their space lions; putting them on horses; and giving them swords, thats just due to the galra being awful as per usual but im tagging it just in case, this author is tired but damn if she doesnt want you all to enjoy this damn fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalmagic/pseuds/eternalmagic
Summary: Forced to flee her home at a young age when Castle Altea was attacked by the Galra, Princess Allura has waited for the day when she can finally avenge her father and her people. With her advisor and retainer Coran at her side, she feels ready to attack Zarkon the moment she steps foot out of the priory she has hidden in for so long.That is, unfortunately, easier said than done as an army of two. Perhaps, though, the company of mercenaries her father helped found will aid her in her quest…[ or, a fire emblem au. ]





	1. Prologue: The Fall of Altea

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! a couple of notes before we begin.
> 
> i am a huge fire emblem fan, and was so glad i finally got a big enough bug to work out this au. it's long and a bit unruly so far, but i have big plans and hope it all comes out the way i want, and in a way you all will enjoy! big shoutout to knightofkestrels for letting me ramble at her about this so much.
> 
> additionally, this fic draws a lot from what i know goes on in/is lore from the fire emblem series (having played awakening, fates, and echoes, and being familiar with fire emblem 1/shadow dragon, path of radiance, and radiant dawn). just wanted to let you know there are themes and elements in the games that i think are very smart ideas, and plan to utilize in a somewhat similar fashion here. if you are a fan of fire emblem, just wanted to let you know that upfront. you do not, however, need to have played any fire emblem game to understand what's happening in this!
> 
> the structure of this is going to be a little weird, but i think it will work out well. i plan to update with two chapters almost every time, one for the main story/paralgoue, and another for character-developing supports, like in an actual fire emblem game. i'll talk a little about supports a bit later, but they're going to be very long chapters as this keeps going. just a heads up, since the updates may be a bit long in between.
> 
> you'll also notice as you read that each character has a specific class, just like in a fire emblem game. i'll designate the class of each character and give a little blurb about that class when they first appear. in general, though, it's just a few tidbits to help you better understand that person's role in the army, the weapons they weild, maybe even what i think they might look like armor-wise.
> 
> that is probably a lot to take in, but i promise it'll make sense as you read! anyway, i am having tons of fun writing this, and i hope you enjoy.

Shouting in the castle courtyard rouses her from slumber.

Little Allura’s eyes flutter open at the noise. It is dark inside her room still, meaning it is either extremely late or very early. How odd for there to be such a commotion at this time of night… The princess rises, stretching her limbs and attempting to wake fully. As she sits up, she can see flickering lights outside of her window--how curious. Quietly she steps into her slippers and robe and goes to the door. Surely Father will be awake and can tell her what’s happening. Or even Coran, should Father be busy.

Allura opens the door to her chambers just as a pair of soldiers in full armor run past,  _clank_ ing as they go. The sight of the royal guard is not an unusual one, but Allura has never seen them so active at night. She frowns a little at the sight, wondering what might be wrong.

“Princess!” A voice calls, and Allura turns to see her father's advisor coming down the hall. “Princess! Oh, thank the ancients you're alright.”

Allura blinks the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes as Coran crouches before her. She hardly recognizes him at first, as he is in full armor instead of his usual attire. It's not often that Allura sees him ready for battle. She tilts her head. "Is everything alright, Coran? Why are you in your armor?"

He frowns a little, focused on fussing over her. Allura worries that he might not actually answer her, but just as she does, he speaks quietly. "Castle Altea is under attack. Your father asked me to make sure you were safe."

Allura is instantly alarmed. "Under attack? By who?"

Coran is reluctant to answer, smoothing the hair at the top of her head. His expression is hard to read. He eventually stands, holding his hand out to her. "We need to get you to safety, princess. My wyvern is waiting for us down at the stables. Should everything work out, your father will meet us there." He smiles gently. "Why don't we get some of your things first, though, hmm? We can't have you running around in just your nightgown."

Allura nods, and they go back to her room. As she dresses, Coran gathers up a few of her belongings to take with them. When they are both finished, Coran takes her hand once more and gently leads her through the castle to where his wyvern waits.

She cannot see very much that is happening outside the walls of the castle, but she can see the soldiers running to and fro down in the courtyard. Palace servants are bustling about as well, some carrying things to and from the armory. Were it not for the situation, seeing the elderly maids carrying weapons to and fro might be a sight that made Allura fall out of her chair laughing--but the grim expressions on their faces sends a chill down the princess' spine instead. When Allura looks out of the tall windows they pass, she can see a battalion of Altean mages lining the outmost wall of the castle, the flashes of their magic lighting up the night sky. Wyvern riders and pegasus knights also fill the sky, their lances glinting in the firelight as they soar far above the rest. The battle is raging, and Allura, for one of the first times in her life, feels absolutely terrified.

Noise bursts through the doors leading from the palace to the stables once they are open, and Allura struggles to cover her ears. Is battle truly this overwhelming? She grips Coran's hand tighter, praying that they will not be separated. Coran squeezes her hand back, giving her a tight-lipped smile to reassure her.

"Almost there, Princess."

Allura swallows, doing her best to keep pace with Coran.

The noise dies down a little as they reach the stables. The horses and pegasi not already taken out shuffle nervously in their stalls, tossing their heads and stamping their hooves impatiently. The wyverns seem calmer, though tension radiates off of their scales in a way that makes the hair on Allura's arms stand on end.

Coran's wyvern has already been saddled, and is waiting at the end of the stable. He makes a crooning noise as they approach, reaching out for Coran to pat his nose gently. Once he has greeted his master, the wyvern bows low to let Allura do the same.

As she runs her hand along the small, fine scales of the wyvern's face, Allura turns to peer up at Coran. "Coran...is the castle going to be alright?"

He pauses in attaching Allura's things to the wyvern's saddle, before letting out a deep breath. He kneels before the princess to meet her eye. "I don't think your father would want me to worry you...but it doesn't look good. That's why I brought you here, so in case something happens to the castle..." Coran rubs his neck, frowning. "I'm certain he and the other generals will keep Zarkon at bay, but this is just a precaution."

"Zarkon?" Allura recognizes the name. "But isn't he one of Father's friends?"

Allura did not know much about King Alfor's friends and allies. She knew of Gyrgan, the large and kind-hearted sorcerer from the south, and Blaytz, the hero of the marshlands to the west. She had seen Trigel flying overhead with their large kinshi bird plenty of times, heading east to their original kingdom. And she knew of Zarkon, the lord of the Galra to the north. She knew they were allies, and had heard tales of their work protecting the continent from countless threats...so why was one of her father's allies attacking?

"Why is he--"

Coran finishes what he's doing, turning to fully face the princess. "I don't know...I doubt even your father knows why, Princess. But I do know the rest of your father's allies are here, fighting with us. There is nothing that can defeat them, I'm certain of it."

Allura doesn't feel terribly reassured by Coran's words, and it must show on her face because Coran smiles very faintly.

"I'm sure everything will be fine."

They are not in the stables alone for long. Soldiers come in and out as they prepare their mounts, leading them out into the fray. Allura hovers by Coran's wyvern, watching them all silently. Finally, the stable door nearest to them slams open and the king himself enters, dressed in full battle armor. The moment Allura sees him, she races towards him.

"Father!"

Alfor catches her when she jumps and holds her tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of her head as if she is a precious, delicate thing. After a moment Allura pulls away, her concern clear on her face. Alfor cups her cheek with his hand, as delicately as he would a juniberry's petals.

"Allura, I'm so glad you're alright."

"I was worried, Father! Coran said the castle is under attack!"

Alfor meets Coran's eyes over his daughter's head, expression hard to read. After a moment, he speaks again. "Yes, my dear, we are under seige. But we are not going to let them pass, I promise."

A loud noise just beyond the castle walls draws their attention from each other. Allura can hear the sound of clashing metal much closer now. She turns to the window, craning her neck to see what's going on.

"Allura--" Alfor gently turns her face back. "Allura, darling, I don't have much time. This will have to be goodbye."

"G-Goodbye?"

Alfor's smile is not the wide, loving one he usually gives her. "Just for now. It will only be a little while--you'll see. Coran will make sure you're safe, and I will come for you when we prevail."

Allura feels tears welling up in her eyes, her lower lip wobbling. "B-But what if something happens to you, Father?"

"I will be fine, Allura. We will be together again once the castle is safe, you'll see." Alfor leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Just do as Coran asks until I come for you."

The princess nods, surging forward again to embrace her father. Alfor holds her tight, almost as if he does not want to let go. But very reluctantly he does, setting her down before turning to Coran. Allura cannot hear their conversation, the words too quick and hushed to make out over the din outside, but she watches as her father removes the sword from his hip and places it delicately in Coran's hands. Coran's expression darkens at the gesture. Allura cannot read it well, but it is not like her father to give up a sword so precious to him. Coran tightens his grip on the weapon and nods once, meeting the king's eyes. They embrace briefly, talking quietly again.

"Alfor--" Allura turns to see Blaytz and Gyrgan standing by the door, their expressions grim. The sorcerer has found the king's horse, and is holding out the reins. "We need to go."

Alfor nods once. He embraces Allura one more time, kisses the crown of her head. "I love you, my darling. I will see you soon."

"I love you too, Father."

Before she can say anything else, Alfor has taken the reins of his waiting horse, leading Blaytz and Gyrgan out of the stables and into the night. She does not know why, but Allura cannot stop the knot of worry from forming in her stomach as she watches her father's retreating form.

"Princess...it's time to go." Allura turns to see Coran ready and waiting. She can only nod at his words, taking his hand and letting him set her in the wyvern's saddle.

Trigel is waiting for them just outside the stable, their silent guard as they ascend into the night sky. Their kinshi bird rustles its wings once before taking flight, Coran's wyvern doing similar. Allura grips the saddle more securely, pressing back against Coran in an attempt not to fall off. Moments later, a loud booming noise sounds from the other end of the courtyard, and the wyvern is barely able to avoid the stone debris sent flying from the blast. Thankfully neither rider is hurt or jostled too much, and they continue their ascent.

Below them, Altean and Galra forces clash, shouting indistinctly at one another. Columns of magical fire erupt and blast Allura's face with hot air, the bolts of lightning coming from the mage's tomes setting the hair on her arms on end. Allura cannot tear her gaze from the battle raging on below no matter how she wants to. Slowly, she watches as the Galra forces advance further into the castle courtyard. Once or twice, she feels Coran raising up his axe to fight off an enemy, and can hear arrows whistling through the air, attempting to down the wyvern and its passengers.

When they have reached as high as Castle Altea's tallest parapet, Trigel waves with their bow and returns to the fray below. Coran urges his wyvern on, putting away his weapon now that there is no danger.

Slowly, the sound of battle fades into the quiet of the night.

Allura looks back only once, just in time to see part of the castle shudder and collapse. Half of the castle now has a gaping hole in its side, and flames begin to climb higher up the castle walls. Allura cannot hear her own voice as she cries out, hand outstretched, when the sound and force of the explosion finally reach them. It is enough to buffet the wyvern as it flies, nearly throwing both riders from its saddle. Coran keeps his grip on the princess tight, but the wyvern still plummets to the ground. For an awful moment, there seems to be no way to regain their balance. The wyvern finally rights itself just before impact, jostling its passengers roughly. Coran guides the creature to the ground, dismounting immediately to check for serious injuries to wyvern and riders. Beyond Coran, Allura can see the extent of the damage this battle has caused. Castle Altea is in flames, half destroyed. Fields for miles and miles surrounding the castle and its town are ablaze.

Altea itself is burning.

Allura's heart breaks, tears beginning to stream down her face as the wyvern takes to the sky once more, flying towards the coming dawn.

 

 

They learn the true extent of what has happened weeks after they reach the priory of Tessea in Fara, on the coast.

Castle Altea fell in a surprise attack led by Zarkon himself. Most of its inhabitants were killed in the attack. Any who lived were taken prisoner, likely to never be seen again. The farms surrounding the castle town were put to the torch, and almost no usable soil remained. Families were torn apart, either killed or taken prisoner. What few Alteans had escaped were now refugees with no place to call home. No one could explain the sudden attack, or the genocide of the Altean people that followed.

Scouts reported a fierce battle between Lord Zarkon, King Alfor, and his allies, though none could give the outcome of the fight. Despite this, all assumed that due to the outcome of the attack on Castle Altea as a whole, the king and his generals had been killed.

The abbess who brought the news to Coran and Allura quietly left them to their grief. Coran did not show it in front of her, but Allura knew that his heart was breaking all over again the way hers was. She wanted nothing more than to go home, to see her father, the castle maids, the guards she liked to play with. The thought of them all being dead...it sent her back into tears even after she thought she could produce no more.

Coran held her close whenever she needed it, uncharacteristically silent. There was nothing he could do to bring back their home, so he saw little point in trying to comfort her with promises he could not keep.

As time passed, Allura did not cry as much or as often. No, as the years went on, she found herself pouring over spell books and sword wielding manuscripts, begging the priestesses to teach her all they knew. She dedicated herself to learning the sword and the tome.

One day, Allura told herself, she would return to Altea. She would return to avenge her father and her people.

 


	2. Chapter One: Unwavering Princess

On the eve of her birthday, Allura comes into contact with an Altean (outside of Coran) for the first time in fifteen years.

The commotion at the front doors of the sanctuary draws her attention, pulling her away from the tome she had been studying to whatever was happening. The sight of Coran carrying the limp form of a man in his arms is enough to bring her running to his side in concern, pushing past the handful of clerics already crowding around them.

"Coran, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Allura--just help us bring him to the infirmary."

Shortly the man has been settled onto a bed to rest, and Allura allows the clerics forward to do their work. She will wait until they are finished to step in and use more focused healing magic--the poor man needs it. His skin is mottled blue and purple; legions cover his arms and legs, and he is so emaciated that his bones can clearly be seen.

Allura swallows, gripping Coran's hand as she waits to step in with her stronger healing magic.

"What happened...?"

Coran's jaw tightens a little. "I'm not sure what's happened to him. I found him collapsed just outside of town, so I brought him here immediately. He looked so sick, but..."

It's true there have been more sick or injured near the priory as of late, but this is not an illness Allura recognizes. It is not until she sees his face, sees the slight points of his ears, that she realizes his country of origin. She gasps quietly, her hold on Coran's hand tightening.

"You've noticed it too." Coran meets her gaze when she turns to face him, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He's the first Altean I have seen this far east."

"Is he a refugee, then? Or..." Allura trails off, mind wandering. Is this what becomes of the Alteans in Galra prisons? She had known it was a cruel fate, but this was far worse than what she had imagined.

"We will have to wait until he wakes to know for sure, but I think it is safe to assume he was a prisoner." Coran's brow furrows. "I hate to think of what caused such an appearance."

Allura cannot bring herself to imagine it herself.

The clerics work diligently to bandage the man's wounds and attend to him as best they can; when they have done all they can, they turn to Allura. As priestess her power over the healing arts is much greater, and she is likely to be the only one able to truly help the man. The princess nods, kneeling at his bedside and taking his hand gently in both of hers. His fingers are cold as ice, trembling even in sleep. Allura studies his drawn and mottled face as she begins drawing on her healing magic, her own brows drawing together in concern.

She pours all of her energy into healing, as if her will alone will cure his wounds, cure what has been done to this poor man. What feels like hours pass, but when she feels a hand at her shoulder and she opens her eyes, it seems as though barely any time has passed at all. Nothing has changed at all, even--the man is still asleep, though his face is maybe a little more pained.

Allura's brow furrows, and she tries again. The infirmary is silent for a long time, waiting with bated breath for the man's wounds to heal. But no matter how much or how long she tries, the man's condition does not change for the better. Soon the sun is casting long shadows into the room, and the bells for evening mass toll high above them.

"My lady priestess..." A cleric finally says, quiet. Allura opens her eyes once more, and finds the man's hand has gone limp in hers. The cleric has a hand to his throat, checking for a pulse. "My lady priestess, he's gone."

Allura takes in a wavering breath and bows her head, willing her tears to disappear.

 

 

The burial for the unnamed man is a small affair--only one of the clerics, Allura, Coran, and the groundskeeper are present.

Allura's voice is small as she prays for the man's departed soul, doing all she can to keep her emotions in check. It is so unlike her to be affected this way--she has seen death many times as first a cleric and now priestess of Tessea, but she has not felt true grief as keenly as she does now. It winds its way into her chest, squeezing her heart in a vice grip she does not expect. She knows it is because the man was so clearly Altean under it all, and that despite all she has learned since her flight from the castle the night it fell, he still could not be saved. It makes her doubt if she can truly help her people. If all of her work will have been for nothing.

Coran sets a gentle hand on her shoulder, his expression grim. Allura can only assume he is feeling similarly.

Once the rites have been performed, the cleric bows and turns to go, her duty over. The groundskeeper steps forward, shovel in hand, and finishes filling in the grave. Allura sniffs once, twice, tears welling up in her eyes once more. She waits and watches as the makeshift coffin is fully buried, the sun beginning to set beyond the priory's walls.

"It's certainly dark out." Coran finally manages, voice tight. He turns Allura from the grave. "We should join the others for dinner."

Allura can barely hear herself when she murmurs an agreement to Coran. She hardly feels her own body moving, gently guided along to the great hall. She remains silent, unable to find her voice.

"Coran?" She finally asks.

"Mmm?"

"Are all of our people subject to that fate? A slow, painful death?"

Coran does not answer for a long time. When he does, his voice is barely above a whisper. "I certainly hope not."

"We must do something." Allura turns to him, expression pained. "If our people are suffering like this, we need to move on from this place. Even if it is only the pair of us, we must go and do something."

They had briefly discussed leaving the priory before, when Allura was much younger. At the time, she had been so frightened--news of Galra raids still reached their ears in those days, and it scared her. No matter how hard she worked, she was afraid she would fail, and die before she could help anyone, let alone what little remained of her people. So she remained here, training her magic and her sword technique, honing them until she knew they would bring her victory. Coran had never pressed her further on the subject, but it always hovered over them; perhaps she has waited too long to act.

It was around that same time that Coran left more often, his trips out of Fara growing longer; Allura had always wanted to ask what he had been doing, but decided against it. Maybe she should have spoken up, in hindsight.

Coran watches Allura for a long moment, before nodding. "Of course, Princess."

They reach the great hall, and are both quieter than usual during the meal. Already, Allura's mind is at work, thinking over what she will need should she step out into the world outside the priory. She catches Coran studying her once, his expression thoughtful. She pays it no mind, returning to her meal. She has already set her mind to what must be done.

 

 

Once the last light has gone out in the sanctuary, Allura begins her work.

She sorts through her belongings, picking out only the essentials that she will need on her journey. She packs her tomes away in one of the saddlebags she borrowed from the stables, what little she intends to bring with her in the other, and turns to the ceremonial armor she received once she was named a priestess. Hers seems to be made with more durable material than what the other priestesses of the priory were given, and she suspects the abbess and Coran had known for some time that she would need proper armor if she were to set out for Altea. Piece by piece she dons the armor, making sure every buckle is done and everything sits properly on her frame. Once she is satisfied, she takes one final look around the room she has lived in for so long.

She wonders, idly, if she will ever see this place again.

But Allura has more pressing issues to worry about. She turns sharply on her heel, walking out of the residential wing of the priory and making her way to the stables.

She is unsurprised to see Coran waiting for her there, his wyvern Groggery curled around him and napping. Allura stops a few steps away from the stable door. They regard each other for a few moments, before Allura takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

"You knew I'd want to leave tonight, then."

Coran shrugs. "I've known it would happen sooner rather than later. I was prepared."

Allura peers past him to Groggery--she finds the wyvern is already saddled, a place made for her own things. That broadens her smile, just a little. "And what if I had wanted to go alone?"

"You know I wouldn't have allowed that. Besides, even if I wasn't going with you, I still have something of yours." Coran gestures for her to follow him. He turns back to his wyvern, fiddling with the saddle and eventually producing a cloth-wrapped object.

Allura raises a brow as he holds it out to her. She looks up to meet his eyes. "What is it?"

Coran thinks over his words for a moment. "A birthday gift, of sorts. From your father."

Her eyes go wide at his words. Allura sets down her things, taking the object from Coran--it is heavier than it looks. She unwraps the cloth halfway before she realizes what it is.

"Your father, the night the castle fell, asked me to hold onto it." Coran says quietly as she finishes unwrapping the sword. "Until he came to find us, or you were ready to come back. I wish that he were here to give it to you, but..." Coran trails off, expression wistful. "In any case, he told me he always wanted it to be yours someday."

Allura stares down at the elegant blade in her hands, at the Altean royal crest embellishing the blade's sheath. The golden hilt glints at her in the moonlight, the ivory grip as bright and pure as any of the stars above. She clearly remembers the night the castle fell, but somehow she had always forgotten that King Alfor had passed on his sword... Allura swallows the lump in her throat, willing the sudden tears in her eyes away.

She throws her arms around Coran, hugging him fiercely. Into his collar, she whispers, "Thank you."

Coran returns the embrace instantly. "Happy birthday, Allura."

Neither of them moves for the longest time, as if not wanting the moment to end. Eventually, Coran pulls away, taking her bags to attach them to his wyvern's saddle; Allura takes the moment to attach the royal sword to her hip. Groggery wakes from his short nap, yawning once and stretching his wings high overhead. Allura pats his snout lovingly when he reaches out for her.

As Coran finishes, Allura speaks again. "As adamant as I am about leaving...I don't know where to start."

"Perhaps I can offer some assistance in that area." Coran leans against the wyvern's saddle. "Been looking into it for some time, now."

"Have you?"

"Mmm." Coran nods once, mounting the wyvern. He raises a brow, smiling gently. "You know I don't stay at the priory often--what do you think I was doing every time I went out?"

"Groceries, I suppose."

Coran just laughs quietly. "Aside from that, I guess. But I was looking where I could, trying to find an ally or two. I would prefer to have a few more swords dedicated to our cause, after all."

"Oh?"

"Mmm." Coran holds out his hand to help her into the saddle behind him. "I think I know where to find some. There have been rumors of Commander Trayling's mercenary force holing up in a fortress due west from here."

Allura gapes. "You mean the Voltron Mercenaries have survived as well? Commander Trayling kept them alive?"

"I think so. No two people had the same answer for me, but...it seems likely they managed to continue on." Coran glances over his shoulder at her. "I also think that they would be the most willing to aid us."

Allura nods. "So. To the west, then."

"To the west."

Groggery rumbles low in his chest, crouching low and launching himself upward into the sky. He beats his wings, climbing higher and higher in the sky. Soon, the little priory they have lived in for so long is fading out of sight over the eastern horizon.

It is not long before they pause in their journey west; Allura is surprised that the flight was not as long. She looks up to see Coran peering down at a fortress below; most of its details cannot be made out from this height, and it is too dark to really see anything anyway. Allura follows his gaze.

"Do you think that's it...?"

"Maybe." Coran glances at her. "Would you like to go down and see?"

After a moment of thought she nods, and Coran guides Groggery to the ground.

 

 

The fortress certainly isn't impressive as they draw near--it's a small thing. Coran knows there cannot be more than a hundred soldiers stationed here. Certainly enough for a small military force like the Voltron Mercenaries.

The princess waits for him to dismount before doing so herself, taking hold of the hand he holds out to her. Groggery turns to watch them, his eyes following his master as they move about.

Coran pats his nose lightly. "Would you wait for us here, old boy?"

The wyvern rumbles, eyes closing as he presses his face into Coran's chest. He takes that for a yes.

Allura has already found a place to observe the fortress from, and Coran joins her, squinting as he peers up at the structure. A handful of torches mark the high perimeter wall, larger braziers lighting the top of the corner towers to aid the few guards wandering above. The fortress looks surprisingly new this close up; perhaps built in the last few years. What strikes Coran as peculiar, though, is the lack of a banner designating the country that occupies it.

Coran doesn't like it.

"Well...do we simply walk up to it...?" Allura murmurs, turning to him. She has always turned to him for guidance, and he is grateful for her caution. He doesn't know what he would do if she threw herself into danger without a thought for her own safety.

He motions for her to wait; in an instant, he has returned to their waiting wyvern and removed his axe from where it had been stored on the back of the saddle. When he returns, Allura seems to understand his caution, her own hand drifting down to the hilt of her new sword.

"Is something the matter?"

"No banners." Coran says by way of explanation, readjusting his gloves as the princess' head whips around, eyes scanning the fortress. "Last I knew, the Voltron Mercenaries had a banner that they flew proudly. Of course, things have changed since Castle Altea, but..." It still didn't feel quite right.

Allura simply nods. "We should be cautious, then. Shall I follow you?"

They make their way to the perimeter walls with little difficulty (with so few guards it's not surprising they were not seen). Airing on the side of caution, Coran turns away from the main gate of the fortress, following the walls instead in hopes of finding another entrance. They find one at the foot of a corner tower, opening into a staircase spiraling up to the top. Another door on the inside of the tower leads directly into the fortress.

The inside of the fortress itself is just as quiet as the outside--at this time of night it is not exactly unexpected, but the eerie silence still sets both Alteans on edge. Additionally, though there were no indicators on the outer walls who was housed inside, the banners he had not seen on the outside were hung on all of the interior buildings, easily visible.

Coran swallows thickly, instantly recognizing the emblem being displayed.

"Is that...?" Allura leans forward, peering at the closest one from over Coran's shoulder.

"That's not the banner for the Voltron Mercenaries." He says quietly. He feels the princess stiffen when he continues, "That is for the Galra Empire."

At the very least, they now know they are within enemy territory--Coran is quietly thankful he had good enough sense not to let Groggery land directly at the center of the fortress. As it is, they are still in a very dangerous position, and Coran is more than happy to go back out the way they came in.

"We should go." He turns to Allura, jaw clenching. "It's not a good idea to stay here longer than necessary."

"But--" Allura hesitates to answer when Coran turns to her. "But we can look around a little, at least. This may be our only chance to see a Galra fortress without alerting someone we're here."

She has a point--even with all the digging Coran has done over the years, he still knows very little of what exactly the Galra are doing, other than terrorizing people. It doesn't sit very well with Coran, the idea of staying here any longer, but it could help them immensely in the future.

Against his better judgement, he nods. "Alright. But the moment we find anything useful, we need to leave."

"Of course." Allura smiles reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder once. "Where you go, I follow."

Coran nods curtly and readjusts his grip on his axe. After a moment or two more of scanning the grounds, he leads Allura further in.

Only one of the inner buildings has light inside, and it also happens to be the only one with an unlocked door. Coran peers inside, and is relieved to find there seem to be no active guards in the entrance. When he steps further in, he sees a small table with chairs and an oil lamp in the corner. There is a mild odor to the room, but otherwise it seems normal.

"This room's clear."

They do not find much to flip through in the entrance of the building, other than a log of people coming in and out. It seems this fortress is a prison of some sort, if he is reading the log correctly. Coran relays this to Allura, who only nods as she peers about the room. Her eyes finally settle on the lone door other than the entrance.

"Shall we?" She asks, turning to him.

Coran once again leads the way, peering through the door to be sure the room is cleared. A foul stench reaches him the moment he opens it, his nose wrinkling. He shakes his head and peers through once more, ignoring the way the odor makes his nose burn.

This room is much less organized--there is a desk in the corner of the room, piled high with papers and books and even a few potion bottles. A large table of alchemic equipment is on the far wall next to the desk, its flasks filled with a luminescent liquid. A table lays in the middle, the large lump occupying it covered in an old, stained cloth. An open archway on the far wall leads into a dimly lit hallway. Coran motions for Allura to wait at the door as he steps inside, carefully avoiding the clutter and drawing unwanted attention from outside.

"What is it...?" Allura whispers, pointing to the central table.

Coran frowns, unsure. "It...looks vaguely human." That would explain the smell, at least.

He pulls back the cloth just enough to confirm it--the body underneath is in poor shape, and being uncovered only makes the room smell worse. Coran and Allura both make disgusted noises and cover their noses when it hits them. After a moment, Coran steels himself to get a better look.

The face that greets him looks much the same as the Altean man he'd found outside of Fara--skin just as mottled, but the legions on this corpse are oozing a foul-smelling bodily fluid that is hard to place. The person's hair is almost completely gone, leaving the scalp bare save for a few tufts of wispy hair. Its eyes--open in an unnerving death stare--are glassy and colorless. Coran's heart sinks even more when he sees the pointed ears and the faint facial markings.

He replaces the cloth, feeling his stomach roiling with nausea. "Altean."

He hears Allura shuffle in the doorway. He cannot bear to look at her. They both fall silent, quietly sending prayers up for their fallen countryman.

"Help me gather up some of these documents. We might find something of use later." Coran turns to the desk now, grabbing stacks upon stacks of papers. He tries to read a little of one, but there is only gibberish on it, and it does nothing but make his head swirl more than it already is.

Allura soon appears at his side, taking the documents from him. She does not turn to the central table. When Coran catches a glimpse of her face, he can see tears falling down her cheeks, though she lets out no sound indicating her grief. They cannot carry all of the documents for fear of them falling out of their grasp, and the pouch they find cannot carry as much as they would like. Hurriedly, the princess shoves as much as she can into the pouch, turning on her heel and heading back to the door they came through. Coran follows her quickly.

A sound from the open archway stops them both.

Coran feels his heart skip a beat as his first thought is they have been found by a Galra soldier. What he had thought was the rustling of armor does not continue--instead, he hears silence. And then, he hears it again.

"....lp....."

Coran and Allura's eyes meet, before turning to the archway.

"...lp....!"

Coran readies his axe in his hand, stepping quietly along the wall to investigate. He feels Allura follow suit, hears her draw the royal sword from its scabbard.

When they reach the archway, they find it is the entrance to a small dungeon. A frail, mottled hand rests against the stone floor, moving weakly.

"...h-..elp....!"

As they draw closer, Coran finally finds the source of the voice. An emaciated woman lays in one of the cells, hand outstretched. She still has most of her hair, and while she is not quite in the same state as the others they have seen, her skin is still mottled and oozing. Also like the others, the tips of her ears and facial markings give her away as an Altean. When her unfocused eyes find Coran and Allura, she smiles. She is missing three of her teeth, and with her smile, they can see a birthmark on her chin.

"I--" She starts, smacking her lips once. Her voice is hardly more than a whisper, and it seems she has not spoken in some time, the words hard for her. "I.......h-heard.....voices."

Allura kneels at once, taking the woman's hand. "Hold still, please--we'll help you, I promise."

Allura shoots a quick look to Coran, who nods. She shuffles out of the way as Coran lifts his axe high into the air, bringing its blunt side it down in a smooth arc on the lock of the door. A loud _clang_ sounds through the building. Coran swallows, knowing they have little time, and repeats the action. As he works, he sees and hears Allura speaking with the woman as the princess tries to heal her.

"What--What is your name?"

"H.......ira...."

"Hira?" Allura asks. "That's a lovely name."

_Clang!_

"Yo....you...?"

"Allura. Daughter of Alfor."

The woman's eyes light up, her smile widening. She clasps the princess' hands in both of her own. "Prin......cess......."

_Clang!_

Coran hesitates after the fourth blow to the lock, hearing voices outside. He turns to Allura, to warn her, but she is gazing down at the woman, tears falling freely down her face.

"Y-Yes! Yes...." Allura finally manages, gripping Hira's hands. "Yes, I'm here. We're going to help you--"

Shouting comes from the entrance. Coran swears loudly, turning from the lock to the archway, axe ready in his hands.

Faintly, he hears, "Go......be...safe......"

Moments later, three Galra soldiers are upon him.

With a shout Coran swings his axe into the first soldier. The blow is strong enough to send the soldier sprawling back. The second charges forward immediately after. Coran's next swing catches this one in the stomach; the soldier shouts in pain, collapsing the moment the axe finishes its arc and splatters blood across the walls. The first struggles to stand, but Coran knocks him back with the pommel of his axe. The third nearly manages to stab at Coran's shoulder, but a blast of fire from behind him blasts him back. His helmet crashes into the wall with a loud noise, and he crumples instantly. Coran turns to see Allura with her hand outstretched, face filled with pain.

The Altean woman Hira lays behind her, unmoving. Her smile has not faded, and with her eyes closed she looks as if she is simply sleeping.

"We need to go." Allura whispers. "We've been here too long."

Coran nods in agreement, and they step over the fallen Galra soldiers.

Another round of shouting erupts from the guards manning the perimeter walls as they dart from the building to their exit, and they can hear soldiers coming to cut them off. Somehow they duck into a corner tower unscathed, but they have no time to rest. The corner tower they had entered through is filled with a cacophony of sound, soldiers shouting and running as quickly as they can to cut off their route of escape. Coran shoves Allura out of the exit ahead of him, ensuring she escapes safely. He knocks back a few more soldiers before pursuing her.

Groggery had been alerted by the sounds of alarm filling the night air, bounding to his master and the princess not long after they escape the fortress. Allura clambers onto the wyvern's saddle, Coran following suit not a moment later. With an encouraging shout from Coran the wyvern shoots up into the sky, easily outrunning the volley of arrows sent after them.

Both Coran and Allura sit uneasily in Groggery's saddle for several minutes, heaving from exertion. Coran looks back once as the fortress falls away below them, and finds they are not being pursued.

It is only when they can hear nothing but the wind whistling in their ears that Allura tugs on Coran's arm, gesturing downwards. Coran angles the reins, and Groggery quickly descends. The moment he has landed, she slips off, doubling over. She heaves, quickly losing her dinner.

Coran can do not much other than hold back her hair and rub circles into her back until she is finished. Even after she has stopped retching, she remains bent over. Coran can feel her trembling.

A long, silent moment passes between them.

Coran leaves her side long enough to retrieve a handkerchief from his saddle bags. He leans over, offering it. "Perhaps....perhaps we should rest for a little while."

Allura only nods.

He guides her gently over to Groggery's side, settling a blanket over her as she sits against the wyvern's side. He offers her some water from the canteen he'd prepared, and sets about making a fire.

"'m sorry." Allura eventually says, voice small. She sounds almost like she did the night they left the castle. When Coran turns to her, she is curled into herself, hiding her face.

He leans over, smoothing out the hair at the top of her head. "It's alright. Just rest."

He watches her until her eyes finally close, her breathing evening out as she succumbs to sleep. Coran sighs heavily, turning his focus to cleaning his axe. He prays that they will find allies soon. They must, if they are ever to save their people. 

 

 

_**New support conversations have been unlocked.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all! hope you're enjoying this so far. i promised to explain classes, so that is what i'll do! allura is a priestess, and coran a wyvern lord.
> 
> -> i am using the priestess class from echoes for allura--they wield swords and both healing and elemental magic. allura is a great fit for this class, especially since she has a lot in common with celica, one of the protagonists from echoes/gaiden. she will reclass later on, but that is for later. for allura's armor, i think she'd wear something similar to celica as well; i found a really great breakdown of it [here](http://www.siliconera.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/tumblr_inline_oq2oarWKJb1uftrnv_1280_thumb.jpg)!  
> -> coran was one of the harder characters to class, but i eventually decided that since he is the titania/frederick of this story, he should be the promoted unit you get at the beginning. wyvern lords are flying units, and wield axes and lances. i just. really liked the idea of coran on a dragon, and we will have a shortage of flying units for a while, so i thought this would work out well!
> 
> and, if you were wondering, here are the classes of the former paladins, from the prologue: alfor is a paladin, a mounted unit that wields swords and lances; gyrgan is a sorcerer, a mage that can use normal elemental magic as well as dark magic; blaytz is a hero, and can use axes and swords; and trigel is a kinshi knight, another flying unit who rides a giant bird and uses bows and lances.
> 
> again, i hope you are enjoying this!


	3. Chapter One: Supports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to our first support chapter! a quick explanation if you are not familiar with fire emblem games: supports are character-developing conversations that happen between certain units outside of the main story; it's a great way to get more development from characters who join your army but may not have much time in the spotlight after that. supports range from serious to silly, and are one of my favorite things to see in fire emblem games. i originally wasn't going to include any of these since i knew it'd be a huge addition an already big story, but i had some really great ideas for supports that i couldn't overlook.
> 
> anyway, as i said before, with almost every update there will be new supports "unlocked". these will get longer as the story continues and allura and coran add more people to their army, so prepare for quite a lot of supports. this chapter is kind of the exception, since it's just coran and allura this time.
> 
> that's it for now, but enjoy! more to come soon.

Allura watches Coran as he bustles about their makeshift camp, packing away blankets and the dishes he'd cleaned since they finished their meal. Once or twice she opens her mouth, but she finds herself unable to say anything. She can think of nothing but Hira, the woman in that fortress...and the thought only makes her want to heave again.

She turns to study Coran instead, hoping to think about something else for a while. He'd been awake still when she woke, already making a small breakfast for them. It's clear he didn't sleep, if the circles under his tired eyes are any indication. She knows he would do anything for her, but...

As Coran puts out the last embers of their fire, she speaks.

"You should have let me cook." She pulls her knees to her chest. Groggery huffs behind her, as if in agreement.

Coran turns, blinking. "What?"

Allura repeats herself, a little louder. Coran shakes his head.

"It's not a problem. You looked tired, I wasn't going to force you to get up and cook."

She purses her lips. "You know what I mean."

Coran only hums, acting as if he hadn't heard her.

"You know that I rely on you for a lot, but I am able to do plenty." She watches as Coran pauses in his work. "You should take a rest every now and then as well."

"Allura..." Coran finally mutters. "It's fine, really."

Allura is quiet for a long moment, brows drawn together in worry. "I know you're feeling much like I am about what we saw last night." Coran's shoulders stiffen. "Don't hide it."

Coran finally turns to her, mouth drawn in a tight line. He meets her gaze for one moment, then guiltily turns away, fiddling with his mustache. "I'm not hiding it. I just--don't want to burden you any more than you already are."

Allura stands, steps light as she walks over to him. "Coran, you wouldn't be! You could never burden me with that sort of thing." She takes his hand in hers. "I trust you more than anything--you have seen practically every emotion I have felt, know what things worry me. You know what drives me to do better, to be better. And you know all that because I trust you, and want to be open with you. Won't you do the same for me? I know you trust me the way I trust you."

Coran purses his lips a little, before tugging Allura into his arms for an embrace. "I suppose I can't help but feel a little parental towards you, and want to shield you from some things. But...I will try. Because you asked so nicely."

Allura smiles gently.

"No promises, of course." He adds, for good measure.

"Of course." She says, smiling a little more widely now.

When they release one another, Coran's expression is more open, and Allura can tell he's still mulling over everything. But he sees her smile, and that makes the corner of his mouth quirk up.

"There's that smile of yours. As brilliant as the sun, your father always said."

Allura bows her head, bashful now. "You needn't flatter me, either."

Coran laughs a little, patting her head. "Well, I am almost done, but perhaps you could make sure everything's secure on Groggery's saddle?"

"Certainly!" Allura beams, happy to begin her task. Her heart feels a little lighter again.

Leave it to Coran to leave her feeling better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick note: all updates after this one are rather long! i recommend pausing for a drink of water or some rest if you plan on binging this!!


	4. Chapter Two: The Voltron Mercenaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to my beta ish for helping me work through this monster update (which is apparently only a sign of things to come, since the supports alone are as long as the first three chapters of this damn fic). she's the best when it comes to keeping my characterizations on track and for catching little things i miss when i get so, so tired of looking at things. thanks again, dear, i really, really appreciate you ;u;
> 
> hopefully updates don't take as long to write in the future--i just had my last semester of my undergrad, hence the lack of new things. anyway, more to come soon.

Understandably, they actively avoid most fortresses as they continue west across the continent. In fact, they only land when necessary. Neither want to repeat what happened at the fortress near Fara, though it gave them a much clearer picture of what is happening to their people. Allura has not felt this driven in some time. The calm and quiet of the priory had dulled the sharp edge of her hatred, but now it has returned in full force. She is glad it has.

In spite of this new aversion to the military installments they see below them, they do stop in small towns to resupply. Coran takes the opportunity of being in these small markets to probe into the location of the Voltron Mercenaries, but does not yield much in the way of results. At least, not immediately. It is only once the sea is no longer in sight (roughly a week and a half since they set out) that they truly begin to make some progress.

Coran guides Groggery down from the sky one afternoon, having spotted a small village to rest near; the wyvern lands gracefully outside the cluster of houses, careful to avoid any fields. They see villagers turning their way, watching the creature descend from the sky. A pair of children closer to the village run and hide, peering at the strangers who slip from the wyvern's back with curious but fearful eyes.

A man who they can only assume is the village elder meets them at the fence that provides the village's perimeter, looking distressed. A few men have followed him, baring old and worn farming tools for defense.

"Come no further! We have nothing more to give your emperor!" He says. "Arus has paid taxes and given your soldiers shelter as they march. We can offer nothing else to you."

"Our emperor...?" Allura and Coran turn to each other, confused. The princess turns to the man, frowning. "I'm not sure I understand."

The village elder falls silent, shifting on his feet. "Are you not generals sent by Emperor Zarkon? Leaders in the Galra Army?"

"No, not at all!" Coran waves his hand. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"But--but you ride a winged beast like they do! We have seen them many times in our skies."

"Coran is a fine wyvern rider, true." Allura says. "But we can assure you that we are not Galra."

The village elder does not seem convinced. The men at his side adjust their grip on their makeshift weapons.

"I am Princess Allura of Altea." She continues, inclining her head politely. "Coran is my advisor and retainer."

"We are in need of fresh water." Coran holds up one of their water skins. "And perhaps answers to some questions about the area, but we don't need anything else."

The village elder trades looks with his men, and for a long moment Allura worries that he will not agree to help them. Around them, they can hear whispers from the other villagers that have gathered--she cannot make out much, but she knows there are awed murmurs of _Altea_.

"I do not understand." The village elder says. "There is no more Altea--I thought its castle fell, its king along with it."

Allura swallows the lump in her throat at the mention of her father. She nods. "It is true that years have passed since then. But I am King Alfor's daughter; I bear his sword, and intend to make Zarkon pay for what he has done to my people." She lets her eyes wander over the curious faces of the villagers. "To all of you."

A few of the village warriors whisper to their elder, looking concerned. Coran clears his throat, and Allura can hear him shuffle on his feet.

"I know you do not believe us, sir--you have every reason not to." Allura removes the royal sword from the belt keeping it at her waist, holding it up for the village elder to see the Altean royal crest on the scabbard. "If you cannot believe my words, perhaps you can believe the crest on my father's sword."

A silence falls over the gathered villagers, and the village elder steps forward to inspect the sword. His eyes are wide as he studies it, the awe clear on his face. A few of the other villagers step forward as well, craning their necks to get a look.

Eventually, the village elder bows his head respectfully. When he straightens, he beams and spreads his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. "We will happily help you in any way we can. Let us take you to our well."

Allura curtsies in response. The quiet that had settled over the villagers breaks, and suddenly they are surrounded by curious Arusians all hoping to speak with the pair of Alteans. Soon enough the entire village has them surrounded, adults and children all crowding around to get a glimpse of the strangers their elder has welcomed. Allura smiles and waves and shakes hands with as many as she can, letting Coran speak with the elder about the Voltron Mercenaries once they reach the well.

With the help of some of the children, Allura fills each of the water skins almost to full. She seals them, listening to as much of Coran's discussion with the elder as she can.

"...in the area, then? That's wonderful news." Coran strokes his mustache. "Do you know where they’re stationed?"

"From what I understand, it's about a day and a half's ride to the north. But if you must speak with members of the company, you are more than welcome to stay in the village for a few hours. As I have mentioned, we recently hired them to protect some of our goods from bandits on the way to market. We are supposed to have them return today."

"Well..." Coran turns to Allura, raising a brow in a silent question.

Allura smiles. "I am alright with staying if you'd like to, Coran. It'd be a nice break for Groggery."

"Yes, it would be, wouldn’t it?" Coran beams and turns to the elder once more. “If you don’t mind us staying, we’d be happy to.”

Coran begins speaking with the elder and a few of the warriors. Allura smiles faintly, turning back to the children who are still hovering around. She smiles gently.

“Lady Priestess?” One small girl asks. She clutches at the hem of Allura’s battle skirt, eyes wide.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to get the soldiers to help you? Do you need protecting?”

Allura hums softly, smiling. “We are, actually, but not really to protect us. We need their help with something.”

A boy leans over the girl, hands on her shoulders. His eyes are bright with excitement. “Are you going to kill all the creatures that attack us? Oh, if you do, I’d love to see it! We’ve never seen that many soldiers all in one place before.”

“Creatures…?” Allura’s brows draw together. She can hear Coran’s conversation quiet down, as if he’s trying to listen as well. “Is Arus attacked by them often?”

“I don’t think so.” The girl says, trailing off.

The boy, however, does not share her concern.

“Aww, Moontow’s just a scaredy cat. I’m not, though!” He laughs, putting his hands on his hips. “They come crawlin’ outta the ground at the cemetery nearby. Whenever they get close ta town, we fight ‘em off! Soon I’ll be big enough to go fight them too!”

“Those demons are no laughing matter, Klaizap.” The elder says. Allura turns to him as he approaches. “We do not know how or why they appear, only that they spell disaster for our village. Someday we hope to end them for good.”

“So they just...appear?” Allura stands. “With no warning? How terrifying.”

Coran steps over to join the conversation properly now, intrigued. “What are they like? If they come from a cemetery, I hate to think what they might look like.”

The village elder folds his hands together. “It is as if the dead from the war spring to life and come to our lands. They are stronger than men, and cannot be cut down so easily. They disrupt our lives, causing injury and illness.”

Allura and Coran exchange looks. “Well, perhaps the Voltron Mercenaries will know more. Certainly they would know more of what’s happening in the area.”

The elder nods. “From what the three soldiers that came to guard our produce told us, they’ve been doing all they can.”

“Hopefully it stops soon.” Allura murmurs. “The thought of the dead rising…” She thinks to the corpses she’s seen since the day they left the priory, and shudders.

Thankfully, there is no more talk of the dead rising after that. Instead, the children and other curious villagers ask about where they had come from. All listen intently, drinking in descriptions of an ocean that they may not ever see. Some come forward, bravely, to run their hands gently across Groggery’s scales. A few of the children begin to chase the wyvern’s tail as he drags it back and forth across the ground.

Allura sits nearby, letting Moontow and another pair of sisters braid her hair. Coran filters through their saddlebags, making sure that their supplies are all in good order. Klaizap trails along after him, asking question after question. The boy even goes so far as to ask to hold Coran’s battle axe; he is only allowed to look, not hold, but his eyes light up all the same.

Coran and Allura wait through the midday hours, and just when they are growing tired of the quiet sitting, a shout goes up from beyond the fields. Allura looks up to find a villager racing towards them from the eastern fields, terror clear on his face.

Allura stands, stepping lightly to Coran’s side as the villager races for the elder, collapsing to his knees when he arrives.

“What’s wrong?” The elder asks, bending to help the man to his feet.

“They’ve returned!” The villager shouts. “The demons--I’ve seen them advancing on the village!”

A silence falls over the villagers nearby. The elder goes very still, and Allura can see his shoulder tense up. But the moment passes quickly, and the elder whirls to his people.

“To arms, warriors!”

Suddenly there is a flurry of activity, the men of the village once again taking up their sickles and pitchforks. The woman call for their children, waiting with open arms as the young Arusians race to them.

Coran and Allura glance at each other once. Allura draws her sword and Coran twirls his axe in his hands. Groggery rumbles behind them.

“Chief!” Allura calls. When the elder turns to them, she calls out. “Your men can stay back and defend the village. We will cut off their advance!”

The village warriors all look relieved as Allura runs down the path towards the approaching troops. Coran and Groggery are quick to pass her, flying low to the ground in front of her. The stench of rot reaches Allura’s nose.

Soon, they find the mass of creatures stumbling their way forward.

The village elder had been right in his description of the demons. They are all in varying stages of decay, their rusted and stained armor sitting awkwardly on half-exposed bones. Somehow, despite these bodies being in worse condition than the ones of the Alteans she’s seen since leaving the priory, these do not pull bile up her throat.

Groggery flips in the air to gather speed for an attack. Allura can see her retainer ready his weapon for a great blow. Coran’s axe glints silver in the midday sun as it comes down and draws first blood. Allura surges forward, her sword whistling through the air.

The first moments of battle are a blur. Allura finds they almost always are. She can focus on little else outside of swinging her blade and casting magic. She hears Groggery and Coran flying overhead, hears the wind whistling through the wyvern’s wings.

To her dismay, however, the undead soldiers do not fall as easily as normal men might. Most only stumble and hiss after taking what should be fatal blows. These undead soldiers shake it off and come forward again. Allura curses under her breath as she slices one in half and turns to find another has taken its place in an instant.

Slowly but surely, the horde of undead begin to fall for good. Allura cannot tell just how many enemies are here, but she knows it is a fair number. Perhaps they should have brought along a few of the villagers...but she knows that would only have put the village in more danger.

Something suddenly whistles past her ear. Allura casts a fireball to clear the way and see the cause. She finds an archer standing some distance away. The archer does not move for a long moment. But then, it turns up to the sky and pulls back its bow string. Allura does not need to follow its line of sight to know Coran and his wyvern are in danger.

“Coran!” Allura shouts, hoping to catch his attention. She slices the head off of the nearest soldier and presses forward. She will have to stop the archer before Coran and Groggery are truly in danger.

Groggery dives into her line of sight as quick as lightning. His rider swings his axe with deadly accuracy and an entire line of undead fall without their heads.

“Coran--archer!” Allura calls out, but she cannot tell if Coran hears her over the noise of battle. Groggery rises from the ground, launching himself up with a single push of his legs. The beating of his wings fills Allura’s ears.

The undead archer takes aim and fires.

Allura can only watch in horror as the arrow rips through Groggery's wing. The wyvern screeches in pain, wobbling unsteadily in the air before falling to the ground. He lands with a loud whump , Coran nowhere in sight.

" _Coran!_ " Allura screams, slashing her sword across the undead soldier before her. Once her path is cleared she rushes forward, blade swinging. She still cannot see her companion, and for a long moment she fears the worst. But then she hears a shout, and the path clears enough for her to see Coran swinging his axe into some of the undead swarming the downed wyvern. The arc of his swing sends the three zombies stuck to one end sprawling.

She barely has time to be relieved. Almost instantly, another undead soldier is stumbling their way towards her. A few she has left in her wake come crawling forward. Allura thrusts out her hand and concentrates, focuses on the well of energy inside her to cast. Fire erupts from her outstretched hand, incinerating the creatures in front of her. Allura swings in a circle, downing those closest to her. Once she's done, she continues on to Coran.

When she reaches them, she can get a better look at the damage Groggery has sustained. The wyvern seems okay aside from the wide tear in the thin part of his wing, but is still prone on the ground. The wound seems even enough that it could heal normally given it gets proper stitches and treatment. As it is, however, there is no time to do so.

Allura keeps most of her focus on the task before them: defeating the crowd of zombies that now surrounded them. Coran’s expert swings and the threat of Allura’s fire magic are enough to shock some of the undead swarm into falling back, but they both know it cannot last forever. Sooner or later, they will grow too tired to cast or to swing the axe, and will be overtaken.

Allura sends another burst of flame out from her hand, calling to Coran. “I’m going to try and divide them, then herd the groups to you. Can you handle that?”

Coran doesn’t say much, but does nod to her. She nods back once, and wades back into the fray.

The first group of zombies reach for her, but when she begins corralling them into smaller groups they hiss at her, pulling limbs out of reach of her flames. She sends the first group into Coran’s waiting axe, watching as the blade cleanly slices through their necks.

Allura continues on in this way for some time, forcing herself onward when she can feel the magical energy within beginning to fade. Her lungs burn from exertion and her whole body trembles whenever she stands still for more than a few moments. If she isn’t careful, she will begin drawing on her own life force to cast.

Favoring the sword more now, Allura slices her way in and around the undead, driving them to Coran as best she can. Her movements gradually grow slower and slower, until she is not sure how she is still swinging her sword.

Suddenly, something clamps around her ankle and she tumbles to her knees. She cries out in surprise. When she turns, she finds a zombie that has been sliced in half has caught her ankle. Another soon joins the first, holding her on her knees. Clanking above her draws her attention once more. Another zombie has closed in, hoisting his lance up as if to skewer her.

Allura opens her mouth to cry out, but finds her voice unable to cooperate. She struggles against what is holding her down but cannot escape.

An arrow suddenly lodges itself in the creature's temple. The force behind the shot is so strong that the arrow pierces through the other side of the zombie’s skull. It stutters in its steps before it crumples to the ground, lifeless.

Allura's jaw falls open in shock. She blinks once, twice. Where had that come from?

She realizes moments later that she hears the thundering of hooves over the fighting. She turns just in time to see a horse vault over a destroyed wagon on the side of the road, the archer on its back loosing another arrow from his bow. Another soldier closing in on her drops like a sack of potatoes to the ground. The horse lands and gallops in a wide arc around the scene. The mounted archer pulls another arrow from his quiver and aims.

"Clear a path!" She hears. She again turns in time to see a cart careening towards them, the horse pulling it crushing anything in its path. The driver pulls hard on the reins and the cart comes to a sudden stop. A passenger jumps from the back, shouting out a spell. The mage lands with cat-like grace, twirling in place to blast wind at more of the undead soldiers. The cart's driver joins the small mage, a lance spinning expertly in his hands.

The lancer sticks one of the zombies holding Allura’s legs and tosses it easily aside. She kicks off the next with more ease. The lancer nods once she’s free and turns to Coran. The mage has joined her retainer, gusts of wind blowing zombies into range of the archer. With the help, Coran can afford to fall back to rest.

Allura finds herself falling back to Coran’s side for a moment to catch her breath as well. The mounted archer races past again. His aim is always true, his arrows sprouting from the heads of many of the zombies. The lancer swings his weapon from side to side, skewering some and sending even more sprawling back. The mage’s voice rings out clearly as they call spells.

Once she can feel her legs again, Allura joins the fray once more. With reinforcements so capable, the swarm of undead is almost entirely destroyed at this point. Allura does not have as much to do in terms of fighting anymore, for which she is thankful.

Eventually the last of the undead falls. Allura feels her legs give way once more; she falls to her knees and gasps in as much air as she can, trying to catch her breath. She hears footsteps, and looks up to find their rescuers approaching.

The man who had been driving the cart is the first to reach her, expression serious. Once he meets Allura's gaze, his face softens. His hair is held back from his face with a band of cloth, the color a faded gold. His armor is a similar color, glinting in the midday sun.

He offers a hand to help Allura to her feet. "You both doing alright?"

"Better, thanks to you." Allura takes his hand and lets him pull her up, hoping her knees don’t look as unsteady as they feel. "We might not have survived had you arrived any later."

"You can thank Lance for that." The small mage chimes in, coming to a stop beside the lance wielder. Their short auburn hair sits in a frizzy, wavy mess around their head, strands sticking out at odd angles. They adjust their glasses and point to the archer on the edge of the field. The archer has dismounted and is picking through something, knelt close to the ground. "He saw your friend's wyvern go down and took off. Wouldn't have made it otherwise."

“We still owe you many thanks.” Allura bows her head politely. The mage nods back to her, turning back to their waiting cart.

“Sure thing.” The lancer turns smiles warmly. “Now, we need to speak with the village elder in Arus. Would you mind if we do that and then come check in on you?”

“No, not at all.” Allura says, and instantly the lancer turns to go. A thought cross through the front of her mind, and she blinks. “Wait--!”

The lancer and mage both look up at the outburst.

Allura halts in her steps, a hand raised lightly. She swallows. “Are you part of the Voltron Mercenaries? The ones the village elder said they hired?”

The lancer’s face lights up with a smile. “Yeah! That’s us.”

“I’m Pidge, and this is Hunk.” The mage says from the back of the cart. The lancer perks up at the mention of his name, beaming. The mage gestures to the archer that is now approaching. “That’s Lance.”

The mounted archer waves, as if aware that he’s being talked about.

Hunk climbs into the driver's seat of the cart. "I'll go finish business with the Arusians. Pidge, would you be able to keep these two company until I get back?"

"I think I can manage it, yeah."

"Great! I'll be right back." He clicks his tongue, urging the horse drawing the cart forward. It bobs its head as it hears him, trotting off with surprising ease over the battlefield. Lance follows after him, his horse cantering to catch up to the cart.

Pidge heaves a sigh. "Alright. They're gonna be a while. How's that wyvern doing?"

Groggery is still grumbling quietly in pain now and again, but Coran has gotten the tear in his wing stitched together. Allura has never used her healing magic on an animal before, but she supposes it's worth a try later. She still feels too drained to cast any more magic properly right now. She apologizes to both Coran and his mount for the delay, but they don't seem as bothered by the inconvenience as they could be.

Hunk and Lance still have not returned by the time they settle Groggery down and put their things away, so Pidge helps them clear the road around them. It's rather disgusting, if Allura is honest, but she can use to the time to offer prayers up for the departed souls of these undead soldiers. It keeps her focused on the task, though her mind wants to wander and figure out just where these things came from. It's certainly not natural, and she's never heard of such things happening before. Perhaps she was just too far removed in the priory in Fara, where they heard precious little of the world outside.

Pidge apparently isn't one for small talk--or, at least, not until after the road has been cleared and they can only wait for Hunk and Lance to return. They scuff their boots along the ground, silent for a long moment, before speaking.

"So." They start, turning to study Allura curiously. "I'm assuming that you're not in Arus on vacation."

"No, we are not."

"Pilgrimage, then? You're not the first priestess to wander through these parts."

"Not a pilgrimage, either." Allura tilts her head to the sky, trying to think of how best to put it. “Well, not a _holy_ one.”

When she turns to Pidge, their face is pinched.

“I thought that was the point of a pilgrimage. To be holy, or whatever.”

“Most probably are. But this is more of a personal one than anything else.” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, brows drawing together. “I intend to make Zarkon pay for what he has done. Not just to me or Coran, but for all.”

Pidge goes quiet for a long moment. When Allura turns to them now, Pidge is only staring at them with wide eyes.

“What?”

Pidge blinks. “Oh. Oh! Nothing. Just a bit surprised I guess. You want to fight Zarkon?”

Allura only nods.

Pidge somehow schools their face into something harder to read. “Well then. I think you’re right about it not being a holy mission.”

Their conversation is cut short by the sound of an approaching cart. They turn to see Hunk and Lance returning, talking a little between themselves. When they approach, Lance brings his blue roan mare to a stop before the princess. He dismounts with a flourish, landing on his feet and bowing.

“Glad to see you and your companion alright.” He says, standing straight. His smile is dazzling, but Allura is not quite as impressed as other girls might be by the display. “I’m Lance--”

“Pidge already told them your name.” Hunk says as he steps down from the driver’s seat of the cart.

Lance’s shoulders drop instantly and it almost seems as though he wilts; it looks almost comical with how rail-thin his body is. “What? _Really?_ ” He rounds on Pidge. “What is it with you and ruining my entrances?”

Allura and Coran exchange a look.

“It’s funny seeing you deflate.” Pidge says, shrugging.

Lance gives the mage a look, before shaking his head and running a hand through his short brown hair. “This is why I don’t like dealing with you more than I need to. Only Hunk and sweet, sweet Blue are considerate of my feelings--”

“Anyway!” Hunk says, clapping his hands together. “The Arusian chieftain said you were looking for our company. We can take you to Shiro, our commander, if you want.”

"That would be most appreciated, thank you." Allura inclines her head politely. "We have plenty of things we'd like to discuss with him."

"I bet you do." Lance smiles again, but it's not at the same level as the one before. He turns to Coran. "You think your wyvern will be alright with riding back to our camp for now?"

Coran nods. "He would appreciate not having to fly on his torn wing."

"Cool. Hunk, help me load the big guy up?"

It's not as big of an effort as originally thought to get Groggery settled into the cart, as the wyvern still has some mobility. He curls up and almost instantly falls asleep, leaving Coran and Allura to find places to sit where they can. Pidge settles in the driver's seat next to Hunk. Lance mounts his horse again, patting her neck fondly.

They take the main road back towards Arus, but Hunk turns them north before they reach the village proper. A few of the villagers wave at them from the village gates; Allura spots young Klaizap and Moontow among them. She waves at them as they pass, smiling as the children wave their arms and call out farewells. Soon enough, though, Arus is nothing but something falling away to the horizon. A vast, nearly empty plain spreads out before them.

Lance yawns and stretches his arms above his head, prompting Pidge to do the same. The archer glances back at their passengers, slowing his horse down to fall back to Allura and Coran.

"So," He starts, trying to sound casual, "the village elder didn't tell us much about why you're looking for the Voltron Mercenaries."

Coran speaks up before Allura gets the chance to. "It's a bit of a long story, unfortunately."

Pidge has swiveled around in their seat, propping their arms on the back of the driver's seat. "We've got time to hear it all. Gonna be a while until we get back to everyone."

“And some of it we would like to have only your commander hear.” Coran continues.

“That’s okay.” Lance watches them, tilting his head curiously. “I don’t mind you keeping some details out of it.”

Allura turns to Coran, not sure why he's being hesitant. Maybe he was just being cautious as he usually was, but Allura could sense that they could at least trust these three. Coran meets her eye, and after a moment his expression softens. Perhaps he could tell what she was thinking. He gestures for her to speak up.

“The Galra destroyed our home.” Allura starts. “And killed many of our people.”

“Your people?” Lance asks, tone gentle. He’s probing for more information, she can tell, and will likely do so until she calls him on it. But for now, it’s not ill-intentioned, so she doesn’t mind it.

“Altean.” Coran says. “I had heard that the destruction of the castle lead to a genocide. On our way to find you, we went into a Galra fort. We found they had Altean prisoners--they were all either dead or about to be.”

Hunk makes a quiet noise from the front of the cart.

Pidge spares him a quick glance. “Unfortunately, we’ve come across some forts like that before as well. I’m sorry to say no one there was alive either.”

Allura only nods in response, trying to keep her face from showing her anxiety about it. Even more of her people forced to endure the same thing...

Pidge speaks up again. “So because of what’s happened to the Alteans, you want to fight Zarkon.” Hunk and Lance both stare wide-eyed between their mage and the Alteans; this must be news to both of them. “That’s a pretty good reason to go after him.”

“Zarkon.” Lance says, voice a little higher pitched than it had been before. “Oh shit, really?”

Allura and Coran look at each other, before turning back to Lance and nodding. In response, his eyes just go a bit wide, expression shocked. That passes a few moments later, replaced by thoughtful concern. He taps his lips with a finger, brows drawing together.

The group falls silent for a few long moments, before Hunk shifts in his seat.

“Where did you escape to, if I can ask? Back when Altea fell. You probably had to have gone pretty far to avoid what happened afterwards.” Something in his tone is a little sad, but he sounds genuinely curious.

They spend most of the rest of the day talking about the priory in Fara, and how their lives had changed so much after they got there. When Allura mentions the magic she learned there, Pidge perks up, and the two spend some time discussing their respective studies.

Pidge, Allura learns, once studied with the mages of the illustrious House Holt. Allura had heard rumors when she was much younger of House Holt being the gathering place of the greatest scientific minds in the entire world. She’d marvelled over her father’s stories of the incredible scientific advances being made there. She cannot help but be impressed as Pidge tells her a little about what they learned there, puffing out their chest proudly.

Lance and Hunk spend time regaling them with stories of the Voltron Mercenaries and their homes as well; apparently, the two had spent most of their childhoods in the same village. This is not terribly surprising, as the two bicker like childhood friends would. Both had decided to join the company when Galra raids began drawing closer to their village, and the “rest was history”, or so Lance claimed. Hunk in particular tells as many embarrassing stories about Lance as he can, drawing honest laughter from Allura and Coran in the process. As night falls above them, Allura thinks that perhaps Hunk had been trying to take her mind off of things for a little while. She appreciates the gesture.

To her surprise, they don’t stop to make camp for the night, only pausing to stretch their legs every so often. Hunk claims that it’d be best to keep moving, and when both Lance and Pidge agree, there’s no real way to argue the point.

Hunk only smiles over his shoulder at them as Pidge rummages around for a sufficient dinner. “You should both get some rest. We’ll make it to the Garrison soon enough.”

Allura finds herself drifting off not much later, exhausted from the battle earlier in the day and lulled by Groggery’s even breathing beneath her.

 

 

The moon is high overhead when Lance pulls Blue up beside Hunk at the front. Hunk glances at his friend, watching him curiously. Pidge shifts at the movement, but remains fast asleep, leaned against Hunk’s side.

“They’re asleep.” Lance says quietly.

Hunk nods. “It’s good that they are. Best to get rest where they can.”

“So.” Lance leans forward in his saddle. “I have a quick question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You lived in an Altean village for a while, yeah?”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “And? What about it?”

“Do you remember the Altean flag?”

He tries to think back--the last time he had seen it was many, many years ago. Hunk isn’t even sure he could remember what it looked like, so he’s quiet for a long moment. Lance doesn’t press him to remember faster, waiting until Hunk shrugs and makes a noise.

“I think so. Somehow.” Hunk presses his lips into a line. “Why do you ask?”

“Just humor me.” Lance glances back at their passengers, as if to make sure they’re still asleep.

“Fine.” Hunk describes the flag as best he can--a simple banner colored blue and white, with the royal crest on one side of it. He can’t remember the crest very well, but Lance waves his hand.

“That’s alright. I think I have an idea of it, anyway.” Lance straightens, adjusting the bracers strapped to his forearms.

Hunk frowns. “Something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just got a hunch about something they won’t tell us. Well, at least not while they can’t talk to Shiro directly.”

Hunk waits, inviting Lance to continue.

“The priestess has a crest on her sword. It looks really high quality, too, definitely made by a master swordmaker. I don’t think she just picked it up out of the blue.” Lance drops his reins to stretch his arms above his head. “Don’t think it’s a bad thing, but she may be a little more noble-blooded than she’s letting on.”

“Ahh, I get it.” Hunk nods. “Seems reasonable. But we also don’t have their full trust yet. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. We'll know for sure once they talk to Shiro.”

“Mmm.”

They ride in silence for a few miles, enjoying each other’s company. Blue shakes her head, tail swishing a few times. The palomino gelding pulling the cart makes a quiet noise.

Some time later, Lance speaks up.

“We’re probably a few hours outside of the Garrison. You mind if I ride ahead and get things set up for our new friends?”

“No. I think Pidge and I can handle things here pretty easily.” Hunk smiles warmly.

Lance smiles just as brightly back saluting. “Alright, big guy, if you’re sure. I’ll fill Shiro in on what’s happened, see if I can’t make sure we can get their wyvern fully healed.”

“Sounds good. See you at the Garrison.”

“See you.” With that, Lance spurs Blue onward. She rears up a little and tosses her head, before galloping ahead at full speed.

Hunk watches them go, sighing as they fade out of sight. He juggles the still sleeping Pidge for a moment to fish out an apple from their supplies, before settling in.

Just a few more hours, and they would be back.

 

 

Allura wakes slowly, drifting into and out of sleep for a while. The cart is no longer moving when she opens her eyes. She hears Coran speaking with Hunk a short distance from the cart. When Allura sits up and stretches, she finds Pidge stepping down from the driver’s seat to join her retainer and the lancer.

Once she’s more awake, Allura joins them. She peers around for Lance, but doesn’t see him around. When she asks about it, Hunk huffs.

“He went on ahead in the night. He said he wanted to check our supplies to be sure we could help your wyvern more, and so we could get a tent set up for you and Coran.” When she gives him a suspicious look, he laughs. “You don’t have to worry about him. The flirting he does can make him seem a bit sketchy, but he’s a good guy, I promise.”

“Alright.” Allura relents. She takes a fruit Pidge offers her, her stomach rumbling in anticipation.

The hill they have stopped on to rest overlooks a wide valley, and they watch as the morning sun’s rays slowly illuminate the land below. Eventually, it lights up an encampment at the center of the valley.

“That would be the Garrison.” Pidge says when Coran and Allura open their mouths to ask. “It’s about a thirty minute ride from here, but we figured everyone could use a break to stretch and eat something small before we get in. If Lance went on ahead, he should have gotten there by now.”

“How’s Groggery?” Allura asks, turning now to Coran.

Her retainer smiles softly. “Better than he was. Hunk found a small healing potion to give him to ease his pain, but we’ll be able to heal him entirely once we reach the Voltron Mercenaries and he can stretch out his wing.” He watches her for a moment before laughing a little and brushing down part of her hair. “Did you get enough rest? You look like you did.”

Allura flushes a little, shoving at him playfully. “Oh, hush!”

They eat and stretch their limbs for a short while, before returning to the cart for the end of the journey. Allura cannot help the way she cranes her neck to get a better look at the Garrison.

Hunk and Lance had described it as more of a camp than an actual fortress (a wandering group of mercenaries required a more mobile headquarters anyway), so she isn’t too surprised to see a group of tents surrounded by a dug-out trench. A watchtower on wheels stands on the perimeter in each corner, with a guard watching over the world below. On the very top of each tower is a banner of five colors with a shield at its center. Allura does not need to look to Coran for confirmation that it is the banner of the Voltron Mercenaries.

Hunk and Pidge wave up to one of the guards as they draw near. A delighted shout goes up from the watchtower and is quickly echoed across the camp.

The cart rumbles across a small bridge into the Garrison proper, and Allura can feel in the air something different--camaraderie, maybe. Or excitement. Or some mix of emotions she can’t quite describe just yet. But it’s different to what she had felt on the journey here, or even at the priory, and she finds it refreshing.

As they draw closer to the center of camp, they briefly greet some of the mercenaries wandering the grounds. From what Allura can tell, they come from all corners of the world, short and tall. Some are leading horses to and fro, others carry armfuls of weapons in a hurry. It reminds her, just a little, of the military outpost that had been located within Castle Altea so long ago.

The cart comes to a stop close to the center of camp. When Allura peers around, she sees Lance coming towards them, waving a little as he spots the priestess.

“Hey there! Glad to see you all made it safely.” He says as he approaches. He offers up a hand for Coran to climb down from the back of the cart, following suit with Allura moments later. “Sorry for leaving you all behind.”

“We had it covered, Lance.” Pidge says, jumping down. “Looks like everything is fine here.”

“Yep! I got things sorted.” Lance turns around and cups his hands around his mouth before shouting, “Hey! Remdax, Vakala! Get some men over here, we need some help moving this wyvern!”

There’s a muddled shout a short distance away, something that sounds almost like a grumble.

Lance turns back to Allura and Coran. “I looked into what medical supplies we’ve got. The few mages we have are the ones who cook up our healing potions, and they said that letting your wyvern have one should be fine to help his healing. And we’ve got a place for you to sleep all set up--didn’t know if you wanted one or two tents, but I was able to get two just in case.”

“Thank you kindly, Lance.” Coran says, beaming. “Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.”

The archer laughs, waving his hand. “Eh, I do my best.”

“Lance!” Hunk says. Lance turns and sees his friend at the back of the cart, a few men gathered to help move Groggery from his place in the cart. “We’re ready to move him now.”

“Coming!” He turns back to Coran and Allura. “Give us a minute, and then we’ll get your wyvern fixed right up.”

He jogs back to Hunk’s side. Coran and Allura only watch as they gently guide Groggery down from the cart. The wyvern stretches his wings experimentally once he’s standing properly, crying out in pain when the strain is too much for his injured wing. Allura instantly steps forward, Coran following close behind. Coran instantly becomes the center of Groggery’s focus, giving Allura time to step forward and inspect his wing more clearly. The wound is still clean, and the stitches holding together well. His wing should be just fine.

Allura holds her hand over the tear, closing her eyes and pulling on the wellspring inside her to cast what healing magic she can. She distantly hears Groggery making a noise of protest and Coran’s comforting tone. A few of the men nearby murmur in surprise.

She focuses her energy for a few minutes, her hand tracing the tear in Groggery’s wing. When she opens her eyes, the tear has been mended and is now held together by a thick stripe of scar tissue. Hopefully, in a few days’ time it should be fully healed, but the immediate issue of the wing being torn has been fixed.

“There we go.” She says, smiling. She turns to Coran. “We can take his stitches out, and he shouldn’t fly immediately, but he’s alright now.”

Coran’s grateful expression is the only thanks she needs. She smiles back and stands.

A set of footsteps approaches her from behind, and she turns to find herself face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man with a tuft of white hair falling across his forehead. The scar across his nose makes him seem menacing but after a moment he smiles. His face softens as he does so.

“You must be the priestess Lance told me about.” He inclines his head politely. “Allura, was it?”

“Yes, that is me.” She curtsies, briefly. “And you are…?”

“Shiro.” He extends a hand. “I am the commander of the Voltron Mercenaries.”

“Oh.” Allura shakes his hand. “I see. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Lance told me about the battle outside of Arus, and that you wanted to speak with me about a job.” Shiro glances over as Coran joins them, quickly introducing himself. “You’re more than welcome to take your time settling in. You can find me in the command center once you’ve got everything in order.” He gestures to the tent at the center of camp. “I’m sure you have a lot to discuss, so I’ll be waiting for when you’re ready.”

“Actually, Sir Shiro,” Coran begins, “We need to speak with you rather urgently. The rest can wait until we’ve spoken.”

Shiro studies them both for a moment, surprised, but then nods. “Of course. That’s not a problem. However, would you mind if a few of my subordinates joined us?”

Allura looks to Coran, who nods.

“I don’t mind; they’ll be filled in on the details eventually anyway” He says.

“Good.” Shiro steps forward, moving to the men gathered by the cart. “Lance, Hunk, Pidge--come with me.”

Allura blinks in surprise. “Oh?”

Shiro turns back to her, but just laughs a little. “Did they not tell you?” When he sees her blank expression, he continues. “Hunk is the captain of our infantry, and Pidge leads the mages. Lance is our tactician.”

In hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Seeing how the other soldiers around the camp responded to the trio, it’s clear to see they have some superiority over the others. Perhaps not much, but it’s still clear. They probably just didn’t feel the need to say anything.

Shiro turns to his subordinates. “I’d be happy if you three can join us in our discussion. Perhaps the men could watch their things while we talk?”

“I think they can, yeah. Give me a sec to talk to them.” Hunk says. He quickly returns to the men standing near Groggery and converses with them quietly.

Shiro gestures for the others to follow him. He leads them back to the central tent, holding open the flaps for the others to enter through.

The tent hadn’t looked like much on the outside, other than it being obviously larger than the others in camp. Inside, however, it looks similar to how Allura had imagined a war room to be like (she had never been into the war room of Castle Altea, but her imagination when she was young often filled in the gaps for her). A few simple but comfortable-looking chairs line the perimeter of the tent, circling a large wooden table that is covered by a continental map. A handful of candelabras litter the room to give it light, and one tent flap is open to let in natural light. A couple of wooden chest sit to one side; one of them is open, revealing a variety of parchments and writing tools. Finally, a sword is leaning against the table. Shiro steps forward once the group is inside and takes this sword, attaching it to his hip.

“Pardon the slight mess--I’m usually much more organized, but I’ve been doing the books while Lance was out.” Shiro says, tone a little bashful.

“It’s alright.” Allura says. She falls quiet as she and Coran watch the others gather at the table. They all turn to the Alteans expectantly.

A moment passes in silence. Allura looks to Coran hopelessly, unsure of where to begin.

“I’m sure you’ve been told why we want your help.” Coran says.

“Lance told me, yes.” Shiro nods. On his right, Lance crosses his arms over his chest. “So I am aware that you want to hire us to fight Zarkon. But I’d like to hear the full story from you, if you’d be willing to share it.”

“Of course...I suppose starting from the beginning would be best.” Allura says, glancing at Coran for confirmation. When he nods, she continues. “My name is Allura. I am the only daughter of King Alfor and Queen Ourea of Altea.”

Coran clears his throat. “And I am Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, retainer to Her Highness. I once served King Alfor as general, before retiring to be his advisor.”

Pidge’s mouth drops open in surprise while Hunk just makes an ‘o’ with his mouth, glancing over at Lance. Neither Lance nor Shiro seem too shocked, however.

“The princess of Altea?” Pidge’s eyes are the size of dinner plates.

“Yes; I am the only heir to the Altean throne.” Allura does not dwell on the surprise for long. “Coran and I have come from Fara to employ the Voltron Mercenaries. I want to reclaim the lands the Galra have invaded, and free the people who have been made their prisoners or slaves. Then, I hope we can take the fight to Zarkon himself. In doing all of this, we may finally avenge my people.”

She and Coran now tell the gathered soldiers their entire tale--starting from what little Allura remembered of the night Castle Altea fell, to her birthday when she and Coran left the priory. They describe the Galra fortress they discovered, and Coran fishes out the documents they recovered from the pouch slung over his shoulders for the group to inspect. Pidge snatches them up in an instant, eyes flying across the page as they drink in all the information they can.

“...and then we came across you in Arus.” Hunk says as the story finishes.

“And you came across us in Arus.” Coran confirms. “The village elder told us you were expected to return to their village, so we asked to stay so we could meet with you.”

Allura’s brows draw together. “What of those undead soldiers? We were told they attack Arus every so often. Do you know where they come from?”

Lance glances up at Shiro, who answers. “...Princess, how much do you know about what the Galra have done to the continent since your country fell?”

She frowns, exchanging a look with Coran. “We know they have led invasions across the world, and killed our people. Coran, in all his searching, hasn’t found much.”

A look of surprise crosses everyone’s face.

“I had to make sure Allura was safe after Castle Altea fell. I had Groggery fly as far East as possible; there we settled into the priory in Fara, and have stayed rather isolated since.” Coran fiddles with his mustache. “I couldn’t afford to let anything happen to Allura--I had promised her father to keep her out of danger, until either he came for us when it was safe or Allura decided to take matters into her own hands. I flew to nearby villages, yes, but never too far.”

Shiro nods, crossing his arms. “That’s reasonable.” He thinks for a moment. “A lot has happened since Altea fell, though. We should fill you in before we talk about anything else. Lance, do you want to start? You’re the one with the clearest idea of what’s happening.”

“Sure thing.” Lance turns to face the Alteans, settling his hands on his hips. “From what you described of that fortress, it sounds as if you found an active Galra research facility. There’s plenty scattered across the continent, so I’m not surprised you came across one.”

“Research?” Coran sounds alarmed. When Allura looks at him, his brows are drawn together. “They call torturing Alteans _research_?”

“Disgusting, right? Makes you realize just how twisted the Galra are.” Lance’s face pinches. “But it’s the truth.”

“We’ve destroyed a handful since Lance and I joined up.” Hunk breaks in, tone deadly serious. “Most of them had been destroyed in the resulting battles, so we couldn’t get our hands on whatever it was they were researching, or any kind of documentation that could give us an idea of what they’re doing. Speaking of...” He turns to Pidge. “You understanding any of the mumbo jumbo?”

Pidge waves a hand and makes a quiet noise, indicating they are still filtering through things.

“In any case,” Lance continues, “It’s a very serious thing. We have an idea of what they’re doing, though, and it involves human experimentation. They practically torture any prisoners of war they can find while they experiment, and most end up dead in the process. A lucky few manage to escape and live.”

“How do you even know all of this?” Coran says, doubtful. “Didn’t you say that you haven’t recovered anything of note from the facilities you took over?”

At this, Lance and Hunk both turn to their commander. Shiro’s brow is furrowed now, and his expression looks slightly pained. Eventually, he loosens his arms, and he removes the glove from his right hand.

Allura gasps as she sees its condition. Shiro’s skin is mottled similarly to the Alteans she and Coran have seen, but the discoloration is not as extreme and there are no lesions present. His hand trembles visibly, as if he’s cold.

“My word.” Coran murmurs, surprised.

Shiro lets them study his hand for a long moment before tugging his glove back on. Allura notes that the entirety of his right arm is also covered, and assumes the rest of his arm is in the same condition.

“I was taken prisoner by the Galra some time ago. I remember little of when I was held captive, but enough to get a general idea of what’s going on.” Shiro sounds on edge. He takes a breath, and when he speaks again the tension in his voice is gone. “My arm was in pretty bad shape, and whatever they did to make my arm like this could have spread to the rest of my body. I would have lost it entirely if I hadn’t escaped. Somehow, though, I did escape, and found my way back here. A couple of our mages were able to keep my arm from worsening; it’s not entirely healed, though. I doubt it ever will be.”

“It’s been rough for us in the past few years--our old commander, Iverson, died in a battle with the Galra about a year and a half ago. The mages who saved Shiro’s arm were abducted during the battle, too.” Hunk heaves a breath. “Samuel and Matthew were some of the best we had, too. They studied at House Holt, like Pidge.”

“Yeah,” Pidge speaks up, shooting Hunk a look. “But now you have me. And I told you when I joined, we’ll get them back.”

“The thought of people enduring such torture makes my blood boil, if I am honest.” Allura says. “But I’m not sure I understand how that has anything to do with the undead soldiers we saw at Arus.”

“That’s just it, though--it’s got everything to do with what the Galra are doing in those facilities.” Hunk shakes his head. “We’re almost entirely convinced that the people who die in their experiments are somehow brought back to life. They’re given almost inhuman strength, and sent out to fight instead of Galra soldiers.”

Allura feels her jaw drop in horror. “What?”

“We don’t have confirmation of it yet--but our second in command should be back from his scouting mission soon. He’ll be able to tell us for sure what’s going on.” Lance murmurs.

“We haven’t seen as many of these undead troops recently.” Shiro tilts his head. “The attack on Arus yesterday was the first in some time.”

Allura and Coran both fall silent for a moment, unsure of how else to respond.

“I wanted you both to be aware of what the Galra have been doing since Altea fell--it’s never a wise idea to go into a battle like what you want with no true idea of what the other side is doing.” Shiro’s serious expression softens. “We all want their terror to end, probably as much as you do. If we are to help you, we’ll end up saving everyone we can in those facilities.”

“Perhaps if you found your missing mages, they could help the other prisoners as much as they helped you, Commander Shiro.” Allura leans onto the table. “If at all possible, I could lend my healing capabilities, as well. We could save many lives, I’m sure. We could put an end to--to whatever they are doing. The torture, the raising of the dead--we could stop them.”

“But then we’re left with the Galran army itself.” Shiro replies. “All of our worst battles have been against their forces--and we’re concerned they aren’t just experimenting on prisoners of war now. Some of their soldiers possess unbelievable power, particularly the mages they keep. It’s not unlike their undead legions, and we’re worried that we may not be able to subdue them without heavy casualties on our end.”

“They go down easily enough,” Lance breaks in, “But these super-mages have magic that can level an entire village in basically single blow. We’ve seen mages with such strength once or twice in the past, and I’m not eager to see them again. It would spell disaster to face a battalion of them head on.”

Pidge sniffs. “Oh, please. Those idiots are probably just using special tomes that boost their natural magical energy; once you make them run out, they’re done. And they go down easily enough, anyway.”

The look Lance shoots their way makes it clear he isn’t too keen on Pidge’s assessment, but he doesn’t say more.

Shiro shakes his head. “Still, their troops can be a force to be reckoned with. Our company could take on one enemy battalion, maybe two or more--” He looks up to meet Allura’s eyes, as if confirming his next words. “But you want to go directly into Galra territory, and fight your way to the capital.”

“I want to make Zarkon pay for what he has done to my people.” Allura’s expression morphs, even though she’s keeping her anger under control. “I want to go to Daibazaal and kill him.”

Shiro lets out a quiet breath. “I see.” He straightens. “I’ll be frank, Your Highness--this seems a bit reckless.”

Allura purses her lips. “The man murdered my father and my countrymen. I am only repaying him in kind.”

“We knew we couldn’t go on such a quest alone--so we sought you out.” Coran breaks in. “We know King Alfor helped found your company, and Commander Trayling was once the finest general in all of Altea. We thought the Voltron Mercenaries the most likely to be able to aid us.”

“We do help anyone who comes to us.” Shiro says. “We aren’t the remnants of the Altean army, though; we’re mercenaries. We’ll need payment. Do you know how that is going to be handled? When your debt would be paid?”

Allura blinks in surprise. To be honest, she hadn’t really thought about it. She’d been so wrapped up in saving what remained of her people she’d forgotten a lot of the details.

Coran speaks up. “We were hoping that you would be willing to come to an agreeable solution about it.”

“Aside from that, though, we’d need more soldiers for an invasion of the Galran capital.” Lance says, clearly deep in thought. He leans over the table, eyes wandering the map. He’s searching for something, but not finding it. “We can’t mount an operation like that with our numbers if we’d be facing the _entire might_ of the Galra Empire.”

“Don’t you have enough?” Allura asks. “From what I know, your men are some of the most capable fighters on the continent.”

“To an extent, yes, we have incredibly gifted soldiers working for us.” Lance shakes his head. “But less than a hundred going up against what are probably thousands of enemy troops? It’s suicide.”

Allura opens her mouth to protest, but as she does, Shiro speaks again.

“I want you to know we do want to help you--but there’s a lot we need to work out first.” He smiles gently. “Would it be alright if we discussed this amongst ourselves? Give you a chance to check on your wyvern and settle into your tents.”

Allura frowns. “Why can’t we discuss it with you? If it’s part of a job we have hired for you, we should be involved!”

“Princess Allura--” Hunk steps forward, hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s alright. There’s just some logistics we need to figure out, like how we’d be paid, our numbers, things like that. Give us some time to find a good answer, and then we’ll bring it to you to consider.”

She’s not sure she agrees--she’d like to be right here as they discuss everything. She wants to know everything as it happens. She’s sat by on the sidelines for too long, and she doesn’t want to do it again.

Coran sets his hand on her shoulder, and this draws her attention. She peers up at her retainer, unsure of what to do. Coran, as always, seems to know what’s troubling her, and is able to explain things better than she thinks she ever could.

“I think Her Highness is just upset that we know so little, and that so little can be done now.” He starts. “We’ve stayed away for so long that we’re worried we may have done more harm than good. I admit that I share her restlessness, and hope we can begin to help our people soon.”

Shiro bows his head. “I understand that feeling all too well, Sir Coran. But please give us some time; a few hours at the least. There’s a lot we need to discuss.”

A moment passes, and Allura feels as though she’s become rooted to the spot she is standing. But she nods her head sharply and turns on her heel to leave before she says anything else. She does not entirely trust herself to not yell in frustration at this turn of events. Coran follows at her heels, a calming presence as always.

 

 

The tent flap falls behind the Altean princess as she and her retainer leave. Shiro lets out a breath, bowing his head and leaning heavily onto the table.

"You okay, Shiro?" Hunk asks, concerned.

"I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting that kind of response to things."

"Y'know...for a lady of the cloth, she's kind of violent." Pidge comments, tilting their head and staring at where the Alteans had been. "I mean, I guess it's understandable, all things considered, but I wasn't really expecting it."

"She has the righteous fury of the gods down, at least." Lance agrees. "Wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of her sword when she's angry."

Hunk shrugs. "Guess they're teaching that instead of gentleness in the...convents. You go to convents to learn how to be a priest, right? Or, abbey, or whatever?"

Lance and Pidge make quiet 'I don't know' sounds, shaking their heads.

Shiro heaves another breath, rubbing at his forehead. This was a lot to process. Of course, he was loathe to ignore a request from the last living Altean royal, but what they had told Princess Allura and Sir Coran had been accurate--it was a suicide mission for a fighting force of so few. As of the last report, they only had seventy soldiers under their employ. A company that small taking on the entirety of the Galra Empire was ridiculous. They would all be crushed or worse, imprisoned.

Shiro's right hand clenches into a fist at the memory that comes to the surface of his mind, the stench and feel of the dank cell he remembered living in for so long. It was not an experience Shiro enjoyed dwelling on, and not a fate he wanted for any of his men.

"So." Pidge breaks the silence that has settled over them. "What do you think, Shiro?"

"I think we'd be crazy to refuse to help, but I think we'd be even crazier to accept the job." Shiro shakes his head. "I want to help her, but..."

Hunk breaks the silence that follows the commander's words. "This company _was_ founded in part by her father, and Trayling's creed was to never ignore those in need. So I guess it kinda feels like we’re obligated to help." He pauses for a moment. "Not like we can just turn them away."

Shiro stands straight, shaking his head. "I just don't want to risk the lives of what few men we do have. We'd probably have most desert us just for _suggesting_ we take on the Empire."

"What about our allies? Maybe we could try recruiting in the places we've worked." Pidge taps their chin. "There are still some mages in House Holt we can bring in. We're short on magic users, anyway, and having people at our disposal that can cast as powerfully as the enemy would be good."

"Even then, we can't expect payment until the end of such a campaign.” Hunk crosses his arms. “How are we supposed to afford food, weapons?"

All of them turn to Lance, who has fallen silent as he studies the map on the central table.

"Well, Lance." Shiro says quietly. "You're our tactician, so this is your area of expertise. Got any ideas?"

Lance's eyes wander across the map for a few more moments, leaving the others to wait with bated breath for his thoughts on the matter. Eventually he nods.

"It's possible. We'll need to work our asses off, but it's possible." When Shiro only watches him, Lance continues. "First step is allies. Pidge is on the right track--we'll need to recruit. House Holt is a smart plan, but we won't have a good enough fighting force even if all of them join us." He leans forward and clears more of the map on the table, tapping an area to the north and east. "Olkarion and Bakua are our best bets for allies. Olkarion for their mages--combine their sages with House Holt’s, and we'll have the upper hand for magical knowledge. That could take care of our problem with the over-powered Galra mages."

Shiro is quiet for a moment, finally shaking his head. "Why Bakua, though?"

"Yeah, well--okay, do you remember back about seven months ago? With the escort job for the carnival--"

"--with the man-eating pegasi, yeah." Pidge snorts. "You almost got your arm ripped off by one of the performers."

Lance makes a face. "Thanks for reminding me." He gestures back to the map. "But one of the girls who worked the stables told me that she was so good with the pegasi was because she was from a family of Bakuan sky knights. That she could fly circles around the performers she had to take orders from."

"Sky knights?" Hunk tilts his head. "Thought they fell out of style because they're glass cannons. You never seem them except for travelling carnivals like that one."

"Not in Bakua. Apparently their queen trains the army herself, day in and day out. The girl from the carnival said that there's no better group of pegasus riders than those in Bakua." Lance turns back to Shiro. "It's worth reaching out to them if it's true. If we agree to help this princess, we need every opportunity to strengthen our forces.”

Shiro nods. This operation sounds a little less impossible now, at least. "What about finances?"

"If the princess is willing to be a common working woman for a while, and we take any and all jobs that come our way...be a bit more frugal when we spend money...keep weapons in good enough repair for as long as possible..." Lance trails off. "It'll be rough, but I think we can do it. Maybe we can talk the princess into letting us dip into the Galra treasure room for their fee."

"I trust your judgement, Lance." Shiro says, setting a light hand on his shoulder. Shiro looks up to Hunk and Pidge. "And I trust you two to help make this work. I'll need you both to help us stay on track; Keith will need to do the same once he gets back."

Hunk tilts his head at the mention of the company's second in command. "You okay with agreeing to this without him here? You almost never take a job without his opinion."

"I don't think Princess Allura and her retainer will be okay waiting for him to return." Shiro murmurs. "But I think in this case he'd agree with me. He _may_ think it's reckless, fighting the Galra, but once he hears our plans for this I'm sure he'll come around."

There's a moment of silence that passes over them as they think to Keith. The stoic swordsman is usually the first to object to things, always picking up on flaws in a plan of attack faster than any of the others (aside from Lance). Shiro relies on him heavily when it comes to discussing large operations like this one, and he's sorry Keith isn't hear to talk to them. But, the swordsman usually isn't gone for long when he agrees to go scouting, so Shiro knows he'll be back soon. Then they can talk things through, and maybe even refine this plan further.

"Alright. It seems as though we've got something to bring to our Altean friends." Pidge stretches their arms over their head. "Do you need us to go with you when you talk to Her Highness?"

"I should be fine, Pidge." Shiro smiles gently, moving towards the entrance to the tent. He ruffles their hair lightly as he passes. "I'll speak with them, but I doubt they'd do anything but agree or give additional ideas to what we've come up with."

His smile widens as he exits the tent, the tail end of the conversation drifting to him as he goes. He takes in a deep breath of the warm morning air, eyes closing lightly.

Shiro hadn't ever planned on the mercenary life, or even taking over the Voltron Mercenaries after Iverson died. Though he took on the role with dignity, he'd been concerned he would run the company into the ground or have them all killed. With the Galra threat still looming over their heads, it was hard to imagine a life free of the fear just mentioning the Empire brought. Nightmares of his imprisonment threatened to keep a stranglehold on his mind. Before Lance had come back in the middle of the night to tell him about the Alteans hoping to speak with the company's commander, Shiro had thought taking down Zarkon and his army was impossible. Maybe the Voltron Mercenaries of a decade ago could have done it, but Shiro? Shiro didn't know if he could do it.

He lets out another deep breath and starts off to the tents set aside for the Alteans.

When he tells Princess Allura and Sir Coran what they've come up with, the look of relief that takes over the princess' face lifts some invisible load from his shoulders. Somehow, they might actually stand a chance. By some miracle, the impossible task might not be as out of reach as he'd once thought.

 

 

_**New support conversations have been unlocked.**_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally seeing some more characters! hunk is a soldier, pidge is a mage, lance is a bow knight, and shiro is a ranger. (sorry in advance for my rambling about classes, i think too much about it.)
> 
> \--> hunk's class comes from path of radiance; he's going to be similar to nephenee if you're familiar with the tellius games. he only wields a lance, but he's one of the early heavy hitters of the group (and probably will be for the entire story). he will eventually be promoted to a halberdier and then sentinel, who do not have as much armor as a general or baron, but are still kind of that vein of armored units. i like that the por line for soldier is not quite as bulky as it is in other games; also, nephenee is a badass and i wanted hunk to be like her. hunk was one of the easier units to place once i focused on him, actually, and i'm glad this worked out nicely for him! he probably looks like lukas from echoes armor-wise.  
> \--> for pidge, you can really pick any game to look at for the mage class since most of them are similar; pidge can use magic/tomes like allura but not healing magic. this was also a no-brainer class choice, since i think everyone agrees that pidge should be a mage. also, fe mages usually specialize in one particular kind of magic, but i actually had a tough time deciding for pidge. in general, pidge uses wind magic the most, but can use natural magic. (specifically, think of leo from fates and his brunhildr tome--it has an animation that looks like trees erupting from the ground.) so wind and life/nature magic for pidge. they probably look like boey from echoes.  
> \--> lance is a bit weird (because _of course_ he is) since i had trouble deciding on his class, so bare with me. being a bow knight, he's a mounted unit and is our first bow user. i won't go into the gory details due to class differences from game to game, but i am modifying things a bit for him. i am using the cavalier/paladin structure from tellius, but i like the idea of him having done the archer  > sniper > bow knight progression from echoes. so, technically, he’s like a promoted unit? but not? he's not that powerful yet. if that makes sense. also, due to the fact that i originally had him as the tactician class from awakening, i'm still very partial to him in that armor (though minus the coat i guess, like [this](https://78.media.tumblr.com/8ac7e21adfdca684f9607a80c0d03241/tumblr_p0xisntnOf1tmcdsao1_540.jpg)). so. a modified class structure and tactician armor instead of the usual bow knight look. is that complicated or what?  
> \--> shiro is a ranger, and only uses a sword; the ranger class is ike's starting class in path of radiance, and is similar to mercenary. shiro is sort of based on ike in this fic class-wise, since both are kind of slotted into the leader role very easily. ike reminds me of keith more in terms of character, but i thought shiro fits the class and its promotion better so that's why i went with it (keith's a different sword wielding class that is speedier to fit his fighting style from the show). anyway, shiro technically has one of the "main character" classes like allura's, and will be one of the heavy hitters of our early lineup. he also probably looks like a variant on ike's ranger design.
> 
> also, for those wondering about the undead archer thing taking down coran so easily--flying units are always weak to archers in fire emblem. always. i have to reset so much because i forget to keep enemy archers away from my fliers.
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading this and enduring my rambling here at the end! hope you're enjoying this as much as i am writing it.


	5. Chapter Two: Supports

It’s been a few hours since Commander Shiro told them about their thoughts for moving ahead with Allura’s request, but for some reason it still feels as though it’s been years. Coran had said it was likely due to emotional exhaustion; she must have gotten more worked up during their conversation with Commander Shiro and his subordinates than she’d thought.

They take dinner in Coran’s tent, hoping to get as much rest as they can. Soon enough, all their efforts will need to go into preparing for the coming battles. By that time, their chances to rest might be much shorter than they need, and few and far between. Allura finds their first meal here to be a welcome change. It’s warm and flavorful, nothing like the simple meals the priory had. Someone in the company must have been a chef before taking up the sword. When she finishes, she hums happily. It’s been awhile since she last felt this content.

Coran takes her plate, smiling warmly. “You look as happy as a clam.”

“I am!” She beams now, turning to watch him set their plates near the entrance of the tent to be taken back to the mess hall. “I am, Coran. We’ve gotten here, we’ve gotten them to help us...I couldn’t be happier right now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Coran sits in the chair across from her, settling into it as if he’s only now getting a chance to rest. He makes a quiet noise. “The rest will be nice.”

“You don’t sleep very well when you're travelling, do you?”

“The one thing I could never overcome.” Coran sighs heavily. “I doubt I ever will at this rate.” He winks at Allura, his smile making it clear he’s not terribly upset about it all.

Allura laughs, unable to help herself. Coran seemed to do that often--poke fun at himself to get her to smile. Someday, she thinks, she’ll be comfortable enough to do the same.

For a short while, they fall into an amiable silence. They drink some tea that had been brought with their meal, and everything else seems to fade away. Allura lets herself imagine that they are back at the priory in Fara, enjoying a quiet afternoon tea together.

Finally, she speaks up.

“Were the Voltron Mercenaries you knew like this?” Her voice is quiet, as if she doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful evening.

Coran pauses, cup halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Allura sets her own cup down, brows drawing together. “They’re all so…” She waves a hand, trying to find the right words. “Whenever you told me stories, I always pictured men like you--older, wiser, hardened by war.”

Coran’s expression turns a little amused, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Everyone we’ve seen here...they’re so young.” Allura traces the rim of the teacup with her thumb. “Commander Shiro may be the only one older than me, and even then I doubt it’s by much. The others are all younger--but they’ve seen so much fighting already. It’s a little hard to wrap my head around.”

A moment passes before Coran speaks up. “Everyone has a reason for coming here, Allura. Some might even say you’re too young to be attempting to go into the heart of the Galra Empire.”

She purses her lips. “I suppose you’re right. But it’s still so curious.”

Coran hums into his teacup. “It was mostly the same back when this company was founded--I was there, you know. Back then, Commander Trayling was only a little bit older than Commander Shiro is now.”

Allura blinks, before setting down her cup and shuffling her chair forward. She sets her chin in her hands, watching her retainer expectantly.

Coran huffs a laugh. “What?”

“Tell me about them again.” Allura’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Tell me about my father and Commander Trayling.”

“Well, I have a lot of stories about them. You’ll need to be a little more specific…”

“The one about how they got caught up in an inheritance dispute, that one’s my favorite.”

Coran shakes his head and settles back into his chair. “That  _is_ a good one.” He strokes his mustache, recalling the story. “Well, I’m sure you remember how it begins, but it’s still so hilarious how it happened. It was not long after your father was crowned…”

 

* * *

 

“Lance! Lance, there you are.”

The archer looks up from where he’s inspecting their swords to find Shiro approaching. He smiles warmly, wiggling his fingers at the commander. “Hey, Shiro. Everything okay?”

Shiro comes to a stop beside him nodding. “Oh--yes, everything’s fine. I have something that I forgot to give you when you got back the other night.”

“Well, it _was_ the middle of the night, so I don’t blame you.” Lance tilts his head, watching Shiro curiously.

Shiro produces an old, beat-up looking book from the bag hanging off of his shoulder. He hands it to Lance, watching as the archer runs his hand along the spine.

“‘ _Advanced Tactical Strategy_ ’, by Bandor of the Pollux islands.” Lance’s brows go up, and he looks back up to his commander. He smiles brightly. “What’d you have to do to get your hands on this one? I thought this was really rare.”

“Ah, well.” Shiro rubs the back of his head a little. “A noble we helped while you were gone had it, and didn’t seem too upset to part ways with it. Besides, anything to help improve your knowledge, right?”

“That’s true.” Lance’s expression falls. “I’ll give this a read when I can. Maybe I can start incorporating things into upcoming battles.”

There’s a quiet moment between them, and Lance feels a bit uneasy. He is still a bit new to being the official tactician--it was a position he’d only gotten since Shiro took over command. As good as he was to begin with, there was still so much he didn’t know. He worries that it’s not enough sometimes.

Lance opens his mouth to speak, but Shiro beats him to the chase.

“I’m sorry we can’t afford to let you go study everything somewhere, like House Holt or what remains of Nalquod. I kind of feel like I’m doing you a disservice by making you learn all of this on the fly.”

Lance blinks, eyes going wide. “Huh?”

Shiro shifts on his feet. “Well, you said when I asked you to be our tactician that you’d never been formally trained as one. So making you read all of these books to try and learn, while still keeping track of our finances and inventory and everything else here…”

“Oh! Oh, no, Shiro, it’s fine.” Lance holds the book tight to his chest. “I mean, _yeah_ , it’s a bit overwhelming sometimes, but I’ve handled it alright so far.”

Shiro blinks. “I can still take over some things for you--”

“Shiro, really. It’s fine.” Lance waves a hand. “I’m much more thankful that you actually _wanted_ me to be the company’s tactician. Iverson never would have agreed to it.”

Shiro crosses his arms. “Yeah, well. Iverson wasn’t the best commander we’ve ever had.”

“He had his reasons for hating me so much. Maybe not _good_ ones, but he had them.” Lance shakes his head. “But you’re finding stuff like these books for me to reference now. Maybe I can’t get out to study with the best, but I like this better anyway.”

Shiro lets out a breath, and Lance can see relief take over his expression. “Good. I was worried about it, so I’d been looking everywhere.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were showering me with gifts to get on my good side so I'll buy you a better sword.”

That makes the commander laugh, and the air around them feels less tense now.

“I’d be more concerned about staying on Keith’s good side. Knowing how much you two bicker, you probably should too.” Shiro shakes his head. “I need to go now, though. I just wanted to bring that book to you.”

“Alright. Thanks, Shiro, I really do appreciate it.” Lance beams, tucking the book under his arm. “If you want to help me, though, you want to play chess with me sometime?”

Shiro winces. “I hate chess.”

“Same here, but supposedly it helps.” Lance shrugs. “Guess it can’t hurt.”

“Well, the next time you plan on playing chess, maybe I can stop by for a game. Since you so kindly invited me.”

Lance laughs, nodding. He waves as Shiro turns to go, leaving the archer to return to his armory inspection.

“Damn it,” Lance mutters, shoulders drooping. “Now I have to go rescue my chess set from the disaster area in Pidge’s tent.”

 

* * *

 

Hunk feels the eyes on him for a while, but doesn’t stop his training to find out who it is. He’s halfway through his daily training exercises, and he can’t really stop right in the middle unless he wants to start over.

A few minutes pass and he finishes his drills, leaving the training dummies a lot worse-looking than they had been before. He takes in a deep breath and turns to find Pidge watching him from the sidelines, expression impossible to read through their glasses.

“Pidge, hey.” Hunk smiles warmly. “You need something?”

“Just waiting for you to finish. Lance finally got me that advanced thunder tome I’d been asking for and I wanted to test it out.”

“Oh, sweet. He told me he had pulled enough together to splurge on it for you.” Hunk stretches as he steps out of the training area. “It’s all yours now.”

“Thanks.” Pidge climbs the fence, keeping their new tome close to their chest. “If you're going to watch, though, you should stand back. I don't want to electrocute you."

"Duly noted." Hunk makes sure to settle in on a stretch of fence behind the mage. He's quiet for a few moments, before speaking again. "So which tome is this one?"

"Elthunder." Pidge says, leafing through the first pages of the book. "It's the next step up from Thunder."

"Right." Hunk tilts his head, watching Pidge curiously.

After a few moments of quiet reading, Pidge takes in a deep breath and readjusts their stance. Moments later, Pidge places their hand on the open book and almost pulls the magic directly from it. From where he's standing a few steps behind Pidge, Hunk can feel the air fill with static, not unlike when a lightning bolt is about to strike. With a shout, the mage hurls the ball of electric magic to one of the training dummies. It hits the one closest to them and the dummy nearly explodes when the magic hits it. The dummy falls over, now wearing a large scorch mark when the Elthunder magic hit it.

Hunk claps quietly, impressed. Pidge turns and bows, beaming.

"How was that for a first try, huh?" They ask, puffing out their chest proudly.

"Not bad! Not bad at all." Hunk nods in approval. "It's almost like you've used one of those before."

"One of the other mages back at House Holt's settlement had an Elthunder tome like this one, so I got to watch her use it a lot."

"Oh." The lancer says. "That makes sense."

Pidge turns around again, looking down into the book again. Hunk watches in silence as they cast a few more practice spells, shivering every time the air fills with static and his hair stands on end. It's always incredible to watch mages at work, especially one as knowledgeable as Pidge is. He's glad Pidge isn't as against letting him watch them train as they had been when Pidge first joined the company.

After a while, Hunk calls out to the mage, who has now begun to inspect their handiwork. "Hey, Pidge? You mind if I ask you a question?"

A tiny head of auburn hair shoots up from behind a pair of training dummies. "What's up?"

Hunk wanders closer. "Well, I've been wondering something--you're using a tome here, but for some types of magic you don't use a tome at all. I've noticed Princess Allura is the same way with her healing and fire magic. I thought all mages had to use a tome to cast."

Pidge adjusts their glasses. "Most beginning mages do need to keep to tomes, yes. But once you've got more advanced magical knowledge, you can learn to harness the natural magical energy inside instead of relying on what's stored in tomes."

"Huh." Hunk leans forward on the fence. "I never knew that. That's kind of cool, though, that you eventually don't need to carry around big ol' books when you're fighting."

"It does have its advantages--but if a mage isn't careful, they can quickly use up that energy and start using their life force instead. There's always a give and take with magic." Pidge pats the closed Elthunder tome. "That's why, after a while, we can't use a tome. It runs out of juice, so to speak."

"Ahh, I see." Hunk nods, pleased with what he's learned. "You're a heck of a lot more knowledgeable about all this stuff than the mage I asked to teach me when I joined up."

Pidge's eyebrows shoot up into their hairline. "You wanted to be a mage?"

"Well-yeah. They're all pretty cool, you know? And I grew up on tales of General Gyrgan, the sorcerer friend of King Alfor; I thought he was the best. So, when I got here, I though I would try to be like him." Hunk laughs sheepishly. "Turns out I'm more comfortable on the front lines and can handle a lance much better than a tome. I never actually got past the basics."

"You certainly know how to handle one kind of Lance in particular. I think it's great that you tried, though." Pidge trots forward. "You know, if you wanted, we could talk magical theory together. I don't mind teaching you some of the more advanced topics I've learned."

"That'd actually be pretty neat. Thanks, Pidge." Hunk taps his chin in thought. "You said something about a give and take with magic--why don't we make it a trade? I can teach you something you'd like to learn about in exchange."

Pidge thinks it over for a moment, before nodding and sticking out their hand.

"You've got yourself a deal, Hunk."

 

* * *

 

Shiro looks up when he hears someone clearing their throat behind him, blinking at the noise. He turns from the report he’d been given to find Sir Coran standing at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.

“Sir Coran.” Shiro straightens. “Is there something I can help you with? Are you and the princess alright?”

“Mmm? Oh! Oh, yes, we’re both fine. We appreciate everything you've done to help us both settle in.” Coran nods politely. “But I wanted you to know that I am happy to offer anything I can to the company, be it knowledge or advice or anything else. I _am_ Her Highness’ retainer, but I was also once an Altean general. I remember much of my interactions with the Galra high command, and I can share any knowledge I know.”

Shiro’s brows draw together, his mouth falling slightly open. “I see. I think Lance would be the best person to talk to about that, being our tactician, but I can let him know.”

“Certainly, then." Coran inclines his head politely. "But you are welcome to ask me for any such information as well. I'm always happy to share my knowledge."

"I see." Shiro smiles. "I'll keep that in mind, then. I'm sure there's plenty I can learn from you."

Coran salutes. “Excellent. If you have nothing you need me assistance with in the meantime, though, I’ll be off to see my wyvern.”

The Altean turns to go, and Shiro is perfectly content with letting him go--but a moment passes, and he realizes he is actually curious about a few things. Thankfully, Coran hasn’t gone far so the swordsman can track him down rather easily.

“Sir Coran!” Shiro jogs to catch up with him.

Coran stops, turning as Shiro approaches. He smiles warmly. “Yes, Commander? What is it?”

“Actually, if you’ve got the time...I’m actually interested in hearing a little more about Commander Trayling. You knew him, right?”

“I knew him very well.” Coran settles his hands on his hips. “What can I tell you about him?”

“I was wondering how he handled the start of the company.” Shiro shifts on his feet. “I met him, very briefly, when I joined the Voltron Mercenaries; he died about a year after that. He’s the one who helped me hone my skills with a sword. It’s clear he liked me, but I never really knew much about him.”

“That certainly does _sound_ like him. Trayling did like to keep his personal life quiet to everyone but his closest friends.” Coran strokes his mustache. “But I don’t mind telling you some stories about him. From when he started the Voltron Mercenaries, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“I think I know just the ones to share.” Coran beams. “If you’d like, I can tell you while I give Groggery a rinse. Now that he’s older, he gets cranky if I don’t keep to his usual grooming schedule.”

Shiro snorts out a laugh. “That’s fine, Sir Coran. I can help, if you want.”

Coran gestures for Shiro to follow, already talking a million miles a minute. “None of that _Sir_ business --just Coran is fine. But back to Trayling! My _god_ was he an impish young man…”

 

* * *

 

Pidge knows that the princess is following them.

Pidge knows that the princess keeps trying to peer over their shoulder at the book they’re flipping through.  
  
Pidge knows that they want time alone with this tome--it’s brand new, and they would like to get a chance to read through its contents before attempting to use it in battle. Lightning magic tends to be a delicate thing, and any wrong move could make things turn sour very, very easily.  
  
About five minutes pass, where Pidge lets the princess continue following and trying to read over their shoulder, despite how annoying it is. Eventually, though, they get irritated enough that they spin around, slamming the book shut.  
  
Princess Allura startles, her back going ramrod straight. She blinks, mouth dropping open.  
  
Pidge purses their lips. “It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder, you know.”  
  
Allura lets out a quiet sigh. “Forgive me--I was just so curious about your tome. I’ve only ever seen the old ones kept at the priory for training, so being able to see something with the newest magical theories is exciting.”  
  
The mage raises an eyebrow.  
  
“And--well, I do have magical abilities myself,” The princess continues, “But you’re probably better than I am at certain things. I hoped we could discuss it at length. Perhaps pool our knowledge together, help one another train.”  
  
She’s got a point. But Pidge is less the _study group_ kind of person and more _read by myself_. They’ve revelled in the chance to study alone since leaving House Holt, and aren’t terribly excited to go back to that.  
  
“And the chance to discuss things with and even _learn from_ someone from House Holt...that would be the chance of a lifetime.” Allura claps her hands together. “I never got to learn Altean magic, but I’d love to learn from a true Holt mage!”  
  
“Well, I’m kind of in the middle of this one.” Pidge says dryly. “And in an important section. So maybe not right now.”  
  
Allura’s face falls. “Oh.”  
  
Her expression tugs on Pidge’s conscience. They fall silent for a few long moments.  
  
“Well, alright, then.” Allura curtsies politely. “Forgive me for disturbing you.”  
  
The princess turns to leave, and Pidge’s conscience tugs on their heart even more fervently than before. They grumble a little to themselves, before shouting, “ _Fine_ , you can come study it with me.”  
  
Allura instantly perks up, smile wide on her face.  
  
“But you need to know that I’m awful at studying in groups!”  
  
“That’s alright with me, Pidge. We can both simply read and then discuss it later, if you want.”  
  
Pidge is quiet a moment before saying, “And I’m not restarting the book!”  
  
Allura laughs lightly. “Then perhaps I could borrow it after we’re through to read the beginning! I can simply takes notes of things I can review later in the meantime.”  
  
“You’re being awfully agreeable about this.”  
  
“I’m actually rather patient with most things. And, I was being honest--I would love to learn what I can from you.”  
  
Pidge settles a hand on their hip, studying Allura for a moment. Finally, they nod.  
  
“Okay. It’s a deal, then. But you should teach me the magic you learned in Fara in exchange.”  
  
Allura nods. “I think that’s more than fair.”  
  
“We should get started, though--dinner’s a couple hours from now, so we should try to finish by then. We can pick up where we leave off tomorrow.”  
  
Allura falls into step beside Pidge, already chattering excitedly about what she hopes to learn. Pidge is surprised that having the princess join their studies isn’t as much of an inconvenience as they originally thought.

 

* * *

 

“...so, yeah. That’s why I can’t sleep right now.”

Hunk pauses in stirring to purse his lips and give Lance a look.

“What?”

“A nightmare about little people stealing your horse.” Hunk doesn’t look terribly impressed. “That’s why you woke up in the middle of the night and found me here?”

Lance makes a pitiful noise and leans further over the table. “It was like, a thousand of three inch tall things stealing Blue right out from under me! It was legitimately terrifying!” He pauses for a moment to think, before speaking. “What are you doing in here anyway? It’s the middle of the night, that’s no time to make food.”

Hunk rolls his eyes. “I was too anxious. You know me.”

Lance props his chin up in his hands, watching his closest friend for a few long moments. “Yeah, I do. The usual stuff, or is to do with…?” He trails off, but it’s clear he means the newest additions to their camp.

Hunk stares down into the bowl he’s been using to mix up a batch of sweets, unable to answer for a while. When he does, he shrugs. “I don’t know. A lot of things.”

“It _is_ pretty daunting. I’ve already got a lot on my plate, trying to plan things out as far as I can.” Lance smiles softly. “But if you want me to take your mind off of things, I can just talk at you while you make things?”

“Sure.” Hunk nods. “I think that’ll help even more than the baking.”

“Cool. So, what should I talk about first?”

The lancer is quiet for a moment, hand holding the last of the ingredients for his sweets. Finally, he just laughs and shakes his head. “Pidge still doesn’t get why Blue is named Blue.”

Lance makes a frustrated noise. “Really? I’ve already explained it to them like, ten times. What’s so hard to believe about my youngest sister naming her because she looks blue?”

Soon enough, Lance is talking enough to fill the small kitchen with noise. Hunk makes noncommittal noises every so often to indicate he’s still listening, but seems almost solely focused on his baking. Time passes quickly this way.

Almost an hour later, Hunk’s cookies are finished and he’s letting them cool. Lance has started complaining about the company’s most infamous swordsman, who has the same hard-of-hearing tendencies as Pidge.

“I mean, _honestly_ , it’s not that hard. I’ve told Keith over and over again that he needs to either ride his horse into battle or leave him behind altogether. This whole ‘ride in only to hop off right before reaching the fight and leaving my horse to wander aimlessly and nearly get people killed by tripping them up’ really needs to stop.” Lance sighs in frustration, ignoring the way Hunk looks up at him. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t gone to Shiro about it yet. I know that Shiro is basically the only person Keith will actually take orders from, but I just don’t want to involve--”

He pauses mid sentence when Hunk holds out a cookie, quietly muttering, “Open up.” Lance takes the treat, chewing it thoughtfully for several minutes, as if he’s been completely derailed from his train of thought. But once he’s swallowed, he starts back up again.

“--our commander in something I should be able to handle. You know, _actually_ , part of me is convinced Keith is doing this to mess with me.” Before Hunk can respond, Lance licks his lips. “Holy shit, Hunk, I think those were the best ones yet. God, you are gifted when it comes to food.”

Hunk just laughs. “Well, you’re the one buying the higher quality ingredients. I know you do it just so I’ll make your favorites.”

“...Is it working?”

“No.” Hunk says, though it’s a lie. He turns back to the cooling tray of sweets as Lance bursts out laughing.

His heart feels much lighter than before. Sleep should come easily now.

 

* * *

 

Shiro watches as Pidge trudges into his tent in the middle of the afternoon, drops their bag unceremoniously on the ground, and collapses into a chair with a loud groaning noise. He lets out a tiny huff of laughter at it, raising an eyebrow.

"Everything okay?" he asks, coming to stand nearby.

"Not really."

Shiro peers outside, wondering if Pidge has left some trail of destruction here--but there's nothing. They must just be too tired to continue their usual training with the mages they're responsible for. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No." Pidge says, falling forward onto the table and hiding their head in their arms.

It's not often that the spirited little mage seems this despondent. Shiro's gotten used to the intrusions, however, though they don't happen as much now as they did when Pidge first showed up, demanding to join the company.

Shiro lets out a quiet breath and pulls up a chair to sit beside the little mage. He waits a moment, watching Pidge, before setting a gentle hand on their shoulder. “Alright. You can stay here as long as you want.”

Pidge makes a quiet noise, not really moving from their place. Shiro doesn’t push them to explain what’s on their mind--it’s obvious that it’s their family, anyway. Samuel and Matthew’s disappearance had been really rough on the mage, especially just after it happened. With so little to go on, Pidge must have been meeting a lot more dead ends lately.

Shiro stays quiet for a long time, not wanting to disturb the silence around them. It’s only when Pidge makes a quiet, sad noise that he speaks up.

“I miss them too. We’ll find them.”

Pidge turns their head enough to give Shiro a defeated look. "I know, but...what if we're too late? What if they're already dead?" Shiro opens his mouth to respond, but Pidge talks over him. "What if we get there, and they die right in front of us? What if the Galra are torturing them right this minute? I--I'm doing everything I can, but..."

As they trail off, Shiro pets the back of their head gently. "You're letting your worry get the best of you. I'm sure they'll be alright once we find them. Your dad and brother are tough--and they know we won't give up on them. So I know they're fighting to stay alive until we get to them."

Pidge sniffles, burying their face into the crook of their arms again.

Shiro lets out a quiet breath, unsure of what else he can say; he decides it's best to stay quiet until Pidge feels a little less hopeless. He simply sits nearby, offering his presence as something calming for Pidge to focus on instead.

Eventually, Pidge straightens up and swipes at their eyes. They stand, and Shiro follows them back outside.

"Hey, Pidge--you're figure it out soon."

The mage turns to meet Shiro's gaze again, expression still defeated. The corner of their mouth does quirk up, though, so Shiro counts that as a win. The mage turns and goes, waving as they do.

 

* * *

 

The young cavalier had no idea what to expect when she poked her head into the tent set aside for cooking--she’d heard arguing, and that put a damper on the fun she usually had when she helped Hunk make dinner for the company.

So her mouth can only drop open in surprise when she finds Hunk with his face inches from the elder Altean man, both of them yelling.

“--telling you, _we’re going to make it the way I normally do!_ ” Hunk’s shouting. Dear Tessea, she’s never seen him this angry, not even on the battlefield!

“But there’s so much more to the Altean version of it!” Sir Coran argues, voice raised to be even louder than Hunk’s. “The flavors much more subtle, the presentation even grander!”

“THIS IS A MILITARY COMPOUND WITH NEARLY A HUNDRED HUNGRY PEOPLE, WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR PRESENTATION LIKE I WANT!”

The poor cavalier had been about to announce her presence, but she shrinks back like a violet. Maybe now really wasn’t the time to interfere…

“THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR PROPER PRESENTATION!” Sir Coran seems to have noticed her, and whirls on her, pointing. “You! Tell me, do you care about what your meal looks like before you eat it?”

She gapes, unsure of how to answer. She manages a quiet, “Uh?”

“‘Uh’ isn’t good enough! Answer me, do you or do you not care about what your food looks like?”

Hunk’s rage is still focused on Sir Coran. “Leaver her out of this!”

The two men round on each other again, their yelling even louder than before.

"You barge into _my_ kitchen--" Hunk wags his finger at the Altean.

"I'm a great chef myself, I'll have you know--"

"--demanding to take over cooking dinner for everyone--"

"--and I was only _offering_ to _help_ \--"

"--and now you're disrupting everything! _Just get out of my damn kitchen!_ "

She thinks she sees a vein pop in Sir Coran's temple. " _WHY DON'T YOU REALIZE I'M JUST TRYING TO HELP YOU_ \--"

The cavalier laughs nervously, slowly backing out of the tent. Once she’s out of sight, she turns on her heel and runs as far away as she can. She’s not going to stick around to see the destruction these two cause if this keeps up…!

 

* * *

 

“Princess?”

Allura turns to find the tactician Lance standing behind her, arms laden with books. They stare at each other for a few long moments, before Lance breaks into an easy smile.

“You found our mobile library. Good, I’d thought you might like to look through it all.” Lance sets the books he’s carrying down on a table. “If you want some of our old tomes, they’re over there.” He gestures. “There’s no magic left in them, but I’ve been told they’re still good reads.”

Allura turns to find the shelves he’s indicated, and nods. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll most likely be borrowing these rather often.”

She turns back to him to find that he’s busying himself with putting his books away on shelves across from the tomes. Out of curiosity, she steps towards the table and picks up one of them.

“‘ _On the Art of War_ ’, by Sir Amalgamus.” Allura’s brows go up. “A tactics book?”

Lance quickly snatches it out of her hands, an embarrassed expression on his face. “Y-Yeah. One of a few we’ve got. It’s pretty boring, in case you were interested in flipping through it.”

“Do you read them often, then?”

Lance laughs a little nervously. “Yeah, basically all the time. I’m sure some scraps from my pages of notes are even still stuck in there somewhere. I’m the only one who reads them, though, so I doubt anybody minds.”

“I see…” Allura holds the book out to him. “Do all tacticians study whenever they can, or is that something only you do?”

“I think most of them do study when they can, but I probably do more than most.” Lance falls quiet at that, expression hard to read. Allura can see that there is something there, something he doesn’t want to talk about, but she decides not to press the issue.

She hums thoughtfully, turning back to the magic texts. “So, are there any tomes here with healing or fire focuses?”

Lance perks up almost instantly. "Oh, sure! We try to keep a wide variety or elemental texts around, since our mages tend to have diverse focuses in their studies." He comes over, already pulling books from the shelves. "We don't have the most advanced stuff since those tomes are really expensive, but what we've got is pretty good. Or so Pidge says."

Allura takes one of the offered books, opening it. "It certainly seems so. Do you mind if I borrow this one?"

"Sure thing. Just sign it out, and return it when you're done." Lance rubs the back of his head. "Pidge and I both keep track of the library, so if it doesn't get returned, we'll both chase you down for it. We know where you sleep, after all."

Allura's mouth quirks into an amused smile. "Is that a threat?"

Lance's eyes go wide for a moment, not sure if she's joking or not. But a moment later he just laughs. "What? No, not at all! ...Well, maybe for Pidge it's a threat, I'd just come bother you until you threw the book at me."

The princess laughs, hiding it behind her hand. "I don't know if I'd do _that_..."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd been talking to Pidge or Keith. They both think I can be annoying as hell." Lance goes back to his shelf. "But they eventually do what I ask them. Most of the time."

"I'd be concerned if they didn't listen to their tactician."

Lance only shrugs, going back to shelving. Allura sets her tome on the table at the center of the room.

"Do you mind if I keep you company for a bit? I'd like to see if I want to read it before actually borrowing it."

"Sure thing, Princess. I'm just putting some stuff away."

They both fall into a comfortable silence after that, Allura becoming absorbed in her tome almost instantly. The quiet sounds of Lance moving books around proves to be quite pleasing as background noise, and she soon hardly notices when he announces that he's heading back out. She only waves a hand, unaware of the tiny laugh Lance lets out at her intense focus.

 

* * *

 

"Ah! Young Pidge, correct?"

The mage looks up to Coran, expression unamused. "What?"

The wyvern rider clears his throat. "I merely wanted to thank you for offering your wisdom to Princess Allura. I know you've only spoken once or twice about magic, but already it's something she cannot stop talking about."

"Mmm." Pidge crosses their arms. "It's been nice talking to her. The magic she learned at the priory is different from what I learned with House Holt, so it's interesting to learn about."

"I'm very glad she's able to talk to someone about it. After finishing her magical training at the priory, she had no one else to teach her things she didn't already know." Coran settles his hands on his hips. "I know she was rather frustrated, because she wanted to learn more."

"Should be pretty good for her, then. Not to mention what she can learn from the books in our little library here. She should be just fine." Pidge takes a deep breath. "Well, if that's all, I should get going. I'm supposed to help my mages with organizing the armory."

As they turn to go, Coran speaks up again.

"Actually, there is a small thing I was curious about." Pidge turns to him, eyebrows raised. Coran continues. "When we first arrived, the mention of the mages that helped Shiro recover got you all riled up. I was wondering what that was about."

Pidge's expression darkens. "Mind your own damn business, old man."

Coran blinks. Seems as though he'd struck quite the nerve. "Forgive me for the offense--I was only curious."

"Yeah, well, you should know better than to poke around in people's business." Pidge twirls around, stalking off.

Coran watches as they go, a bit perplexed. Surely this wasn't such a sore subject that genuine curiosity was met with such animosity. He frowns, unsure of what to do. Perhaps he's just a bit too used to Allura, and how opens she is with him. He puts a hand to his mouth, thinking over how to approach this.

He'll have to wait before breeching the subject again, though, that's obvious. That should give him the time he needs to think about how to approach the subject.

 

* * *

 

Hunk is delighted to find Princess Allura making her way to the training arena, and quickly falls into steps beside her. She beams when he greets her, smile radiant.

"Hunk! What a pleasant surprise."

"You look like you're settling in pretty well. Have you gotten used to our schedules yet?"

"It _is_ a bit challenging, but nothing terribly confusing." She lets out a quiet laugh. "I appreciate you checking in, though."

Hunk just hums, keeping pace with her. They reach the training arena rather quickly, and Hunk comes to stand against the fence as she enters it, drawing her sword. He watches as she holds it in her hands, before tilting his head.

"You need help training?"

"No, no, I'll be alright. Just...thinking."

Hunk makes a thoughtful noise, nodding. "Alright. But let me know if you want a sparring partner."

Allura falls quiet, and when it lasts for longer than he'd thought it would, Hunk starts to get a bit concerned. Eventually, though, she sheaths her sword and comes over, draping herself over the perimeter fence of the arena. She stares up at Hunk and sighs.

"I can't focus." She says by way of explanation.

"Oh. Why not?"

"I'm too curious about everyone here. I'm greeted with pleasantries, but no one else aside from you and the other captains in the company give me more than the time of day. I want to talk with people." Allura pouts a little. "Maybe I'm being a bit immature, but I want to talk with someone about more than the weather."

"What would you want to talk about, though?"

"Their lives! Where they've come from, what they do here, why they stay on." Allura props her chin in her hand. "I want to make friends with some of the soldiers here. I know I'm asking them to do so much, but I'd like to get to know them."

"Well," Hunk starts, "I know pretty much everybody. Why don't you just ask me?"

Allura's eyes go wide. "Really?"

Hunk nods.

"But isn't that like gossiping?"

"I won't say anything that would embarrass them or that they told me in confidence. Except for Lance, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him." Hunk winks, making the princess giggle behind her hand. "So come on, hit me with your questions."

Allura bites her lip, glancing around as if she's worried that someone might catch them. She leans closer, and when she meets Hunk's gaze, her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

"So." She grins. "What other embarrassing stories do you have about Lance?"

"Oh, man, what embarrassing stories _don't_ I have?"

They spend the afternoon gossiping, laughing at the stories they share.

 

* * *

 

Lance had expected Sir Coran to come to him with an offer to share his knowledge (Shiro had mentioned it being something that might happen) but he's actually finding it to be a lot more helpful than he'd pictured.

Sir Coran is bent over the atlas set across the table in the command tent, expression thoughtful. Lance had just laid out his marching plan, hoping for a second opinion. Lance bites his lip, unsure what kind of response he's going to get.

Eventually, Coran nods in approval. "You've got a great plan here for the march to Olkarion. It's specific when it needs to be, but has enough wiggle room for unexpected surprises."

Lance grins. "Oh, awesome! Thank you, really. Having someone with a lot of battle experience to look things over is--really, really helpful for me."

"Anytime, Lance, anytime!" Coran nods, clapping the archer on the soldier. "I was never a tactician myself, but I'll do my best. You've got some rather creative ideas, actually. Commander Shiro's told me about some of your battle plans, and I have to say I am impressed."

Lance rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Thanks--I think I'm getting the hang of this, finally. We had a rough first few months."

"Not from what I've heard." Coran settles his hands on his hips. "Do you mind if I ask where you've learned all of this?"

Lance blinks, watching Coran for a moment. Eventually, he looks to the side, as if embarrassed. "I never formally learned it from any school or anything. I just guess I have a good eye for things--I could always kind of figure out what enemies wanted to do and counter them. Iverson, our last commander, hated me so he never listened when people told him what I could do. Once Shiro took over command, he promoted me and--well." He shrugs. "Here we are."

"I see. I think it's remarkable that you've done so well without formal training."

Lance typically enjoys praise for his work, but somehow, hearing it from a war veteran like Sir Coran is making Lance much more bashful about it all. "Thanks." is his quiet response.

"And if you do need me for help in the future, don't hesitate to ask! I'm happy to oblige."

"Sure thing. I appreciate it, Sir Coran."

The Altean salutes as he exits the tent, leaving Lance feeling a mix of pride for his work and a strange sense of nervousness. Weird--where had _that_ come from?

 

* * *

 

"Please tell me you're not about to eat part of that bread."

Shiro looks up, expression confused. He finds Hunk standing in the doorway, watching him with a serious expression on his face. Shiro blinks, picking up the knife from where it's cutting a loaf of bread. "I'm...not?"

Hunk sighs. "You do know that it was moldy, right? That I set it to the side to get rid of it?"

"No, I didn't. Sorry."

Hunk's more exasperated than anything, clearly. He comes over, taking the loaf from him. "Just watch out next time, okay?"

"Right--can do."

"And if you miss a meal again, just come to me and I'll make you something. It's no big deal." Hunk gestures for Shiro to make room, which Shiro does. He watches as Hunk starts pulling ingredients from the dinner leftovers for him. "I like cooking a lot, so any chance to make something is nice."

"Alright--if you don't mind. I'm--" Shiro laughs nervously. "I'm actually a pretty awful cook."

Hunk levels a look at him that reads, _No shit_.

Shiro grimaces. "Has it been that obvious?"

"Not to anybody except for me. Giving yourself food poisoning a few months ago gave it away."

"Ah, right. I definitely learned from that experience."

The two fall into silence for a long moment, Shiro watching Hunk as he works. He's so fascinated by the things Hunk can create with food, maybe even just the slightest bit envious. He wishes he knew how to do something similar.

"Hunk?"

"Mmm?"

"Would...would you mind it terribly if you taught me how to cook?"

Hunk turns to him, surprise clear on his face. "You want to learn? From me?"

"You seem to like it a lot." Shiro shrugs. "And I'm busy, but the free time I do have I sort of just..." He gestures vaguely with his hands. "Sit. And maybe nap sometimes. But I don't have anything to do for fun anymore. And you enjoy cooking so much...I thought maybe I could try it, and get something similar out of it."

Hunk's quiet for a moment, expression thoughtful. But then he beams. "I'd love to teach you! Come find me the next time you're free, okay?"

Shiro smiles back. "That sounds like a plan to me."

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Mr. Tactician."

Lance makes a noise, not looking up from his finances sheet.

Pidge leans over the edge of the table to try and catch his eye. "Hey, I want your thoughts on something."

"What, Pidge? I'm busy." Lance doesn't look up from what he's doing.

Pidge leans against the table, watching as he works. "Hunk says you used to be the biggest prankster around camp."

"When Iverson was in charge, yeah. Part of the reason I was always infantry." Lance purses his lips, sparing the mage a glance. "Why."

The mage shrugs. "I just wanted to know how you did some of those pranks. Purely for curiosity's sake."

The look on Lance's face makes it clear he doesn't exactly believe it's for an innocent reason.

"Also because I'm still not convinced you were so devious." Pidge adds, and that seems to be convincing enough.

" _Fine_." Lance sits up, crossing his arms. "What exactly did you want to know?"

"Is it true that you set Iverson's cloak on fire, with him in it?"

Lance stares off into the distance, smiling fondly. "Ah, yes, I remember that one well."

"How'd you do it?"

The archer shrugs. "I added some charcoal to his cloak when I was on laundry detail. Then, the first time he got too close to a fire-- _whoosh_."

"I see." Pidge's face is calm, and anyone who knew them intimately well would know it was too forced to be natural. "Smart thinking."

"Yeah, well, I still got pinned for it. Keith ratted me out, the traitor."

Pidge hums. "Any others you remember?"

Lance thinks, and eventually does explain a few of his other, smaller pranks. This seems to make Pidge happy, and then eventually stand up straight and trot out of the room, thanking the tactician for the knowledge. Lance gets the feeling that something bad is about to happen.

But then he shrugs and goes back to his work. He has a lot of reconciling to do.

 

* * *

 

Allura pulls back the flap for the commander's tent, peering inside. Upon spotting Shiro, she smiles.

"Commander Shiro--" He straightens up immediately, turning to her. "--I'm so sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping that I could speak with you."

"Princess Allura." The swordsman inclines his head politely. "Come in, you're not bothering me at all."

Allura enters the tent proper, letting the flap fall back behind her. She clasps her hands together, unsure of what to do with them.

Shiro watches her for a moment. and when she doesn't say anything, he asks, "Is everything alright?"

"Mmm? Oh! Everything's perfectly alright." Allura says hurriedly. "I was actually just wanting to know if you would be alright having tea with me."

The commander is quiet for a moment. "Tea?"

"Yes--I was hoping we might be able to get to know one another a little bit better, Commander." Allura wets her lips and nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know that Coran and I have hired you and all, but I thought it would still be nice to get to know you and the others."

"Right--yes, of course." Shiro nods. "That's a great idea, Princess."

Allura can tell that saying her title seems strange to him--as if he's not used to such formality. The awkwardness she can feel coming from him only makes her own nervousness worse; maybe it was growing up away from her royal status that was causing such a thing, but she probably felt just as awkward as Commander Shiro looked. Maybe she should have come some other time, or thought over her invitation better, or...or _something_. 

A few silent moments pass, where both can only stare at each other awkwardly.

Allura is the first to break. She bites her lip to keep the nervous smile from showing on her face, but she can't hold it for long. She screws her eyes shut as she suddenly starts laughing quietly at the absurdity of this whole conversation. Shiro seems to find the situation just as hilarious, because moments later she hear him chuckling as well. In seconds, they have both escalated into full on laughter, unable to control themselves.

When she can finally take a moment to breathe, she manages to get out, "God, we sound so silly, don't we? I'm so sorry, I don't know what's come over me--!"

"I'm garbage at being formal most of the time." Shiro admits, putting a hand to his forehead and shaking his head. "I don't talk to royalty very often, so...?"

They burst into another fit of giggles, Allura leaning forward with a hand over her mouth. Eventually, the laughter mostly subsides, and they can look each other in the eye again.

"Just--call me Shiro." The swordsman says, taking a deep breath. "I still feel a bit weird when people call me 'Commander', honestly, even though it's been over a year."

"I think I feel the same way--it's been a long time since I was called _princess_ so much." She straightens her back, still smiling widely. "Allura is fine. Just Allura."

Shiro smiles faintly, studying her for a moment. Finally he nods once and reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "Well, Allura, I'm not so sure you'd want to have tea after _that_ , but I'm not opposed to it."

Allura's smile widens. "I would like tea very much. Thank you, Shiro."

A moment passes--they can't help one final laugh--before Shiro goes to fetch their tea, Allura following along behind him. She's happy to find that their conversation flows much easier now, and she finds herself listening attentively to Shiro as he speaks. He is certainly very polite, but without the need for formality, it's clear he's much less tense. They don't talk about any one thing in particular, but she finds that even if the topics are a bit meaningless, she's smiling the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why but coran is the hardest to write supports for so far. i think its because he hasnt had as much interaction with some as he's had with lance and pidge and allura :/ also, these were still really fun to write. supports are always fun, i just hope i did everyone justice. i know some are much shorter than others, but they'll all even out soon!

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at x-eternalmagic or howdomaddie, and on twitter at howdomaddie!


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